


Harmonize

by Dreamy_Darling



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Qrow, Butt Plugs, Condoms, Crow Qrow, Did you know crows have mating seasons, Dom/sub, Light Dom/sub, Lucky Charms, M/M, Mating Season, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Protected Sex, Qrow is a horny boy and we support that, Service Top, Sex, Sex Toys, Sleeves, This isn't omegaverse I swear, Top Clover, Unprotected Sex, Vibrators, all the sex, fair game, heat - Freeform, nipple tassels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamy_Darling/pseuds/Dreamy_Darling
Summary: “Unlike many birds, crows don’t sing loudly to attract mates from a distance. Instead, they sing softly — and at close range — during courtship, with a rich mix of soft cooing, rattles, growls, bowing movements, and mutual nuzzling.” - (https://www.audubon.org/news/hear-how-crow-softly-woos-its-mate)One thing Ozpin had failed to mention to Qrow was that most members of the Corvidae go through mating seasons, so Qrow had to find out the hard way... quite literally.On the bright side, he finally has a partner who’s more than willing to stay with him during his Heat. And lend a hand.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 52
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

"Can I tell you a secret?" Clover's smile was cheeky, a contrast the first notes of exhaustion finally settling into his features. Qrow smiled back, moving closer to his partner. It was him, and only him, that Clover relaxed with like this. It was only him that Clover allowed himself to be seen as tired in front of. Qrow knew this from the minute details of his features to the way he carried himself – in front of others, his shoulders were squared even as he struck a relaxed pose. His jaw would click into place in the presence of overriding authority, even when he masked it with a smile. Qrow could even see it in his eyes, in pupils that would shrink when the Captain switched into this more official mode.

Now, though, Qrow rested his head on Clover's shoulder as they sat together in his private quarters. And his eyes were soft and content.

They often spent evenings together like this; at first they’d retire back to Qrow’s quarters, talking and joking and playing card games. Sometimes they’d do more... until someone would come knocking. Some Operative in need of Clover’s assistance, or one of the kids in need of Qrow’s. Sometimes Yang and Ruby would come with their scrolls asking (demanding) to play video games, and while at first Qrow found it deeply embarrassing, Clover had simply chuckled and agreed.

One of the many things that had endeared Clover to Qrow was how good he was with the group. He never talked down to them, or expected less of them simply due to their age and energy. If someone was kind and respectful to his girls, then Qrow usually found himself more in favour of them.

Their presence did make it difficult to get Clover in bed, though.

Clover’s quarters had been the only place to get away from the kids, being behind limited access barriers and whatnot, and as mean as that felt, Qrow was just happy to spend a few hours alone with his partner.

"And what secret would that be, lucky charm?" Qrow sighed the words, feeling pretty worn out himself. The day had been a long one. Meetings with Ironwood, a tour into the depths of the chilly mines, a surprising surplus of Grimm. They'd been fighting all through the day, and filing papers all through... well not _all through_ the night, but a very hefty portion of it. At last, though, he could rest his bones against Clover, let himself sink into the warmth of the man. He took a long sip of tea, the mug warming his hands comfortingly, and awaited his answer.

Clover let out a soft chuckle, his chest bobbing just that little bit. "I've never told anyone this... But I'm not from Atlas. I wasn't born here."

Qrow raised his eyebrows at that, and he lifted his head to get a better look at Clover's face.

"Aren't you the poster boy for a purebred Atlesian soldier?"

"It's what everyone says, but..." Clover shrugged, still smiling. He had a gentle smile, something quiet, something genuine. It was hard to find that in people.

"Well... Where are you from, then?" Qrow tilted his head curiously, reaching out and threading his fingers through short locks of chestnut hair. He was finding himself more and more drawn to stroking Clover's hair the longer they spent time together, and Clover clearly enjoyed the affection, shutting his eyes and tilting his head so Qrow could reach.

"Northern Mistral, actually. So I suppose not too far away, but..."

"That would explain the complexion." Qrow joked; the sound of Clover's laugh, however soft, left him warm inside. "So what made you move? Surely if you wanted to be a Huntsman, you could have gone to Haven."

"True, true.... I just felt like Atlas was where I needed to be." He wrapped his arms tight around Qrow, pulling him close. Qrow always felt giddy, like a teenager, when he was squeezed by the man he'd long since fallen for. Were it anything else, anyone else, he would have felt embarrassed. But he just couldn't bring himself to be upset by these feelings. How could he? Clover was the first person in a long while whom he'd become so invested in. Just as Clover seemed happy to let himself go when he was with Qrow, so too did Qrow feel safe within Clover's presence.

Clover continued. "I look up to the General. I always did when I was younger. I wanted to be able to lead people like that, to help people. I felt capable, so why not try your best and shoot for the moon?"

Qrow smiled again, kissing Clover's cheek. "You know what they say. Even if you miss the moon, at least you'll land among the stars."

Clover raised an eyebrow, and hummed. "I haven't heard that one before."

"You have now." Qrow put his mug down, before letting his fingers trail over Clover's hair once again. He couldn't quite fathom it, but he'd been craving this all week. He'd had the urge to just delve his fingers through those locks, to massage, to comb, to preen.

"So you wanted to do the best you could." Qrow contemplated. "I think you've achieved your goal. Your dream. Not everyone is so lucky."

Clover hummed again, clearly more distracted by the feeling of Qrow's fingers running across his scalp. "I could let you do that all day. I haven't had someone run their hands through my hair in.... Gods, in years."

Qrow smiled sadly. He decided not to say out loud that the same statement rang true for him. He supposed that was why he was so bright around Clover; up until this ray of sunlight had risen in his life, he'd been desperately lonely. It was sad, really. But he tried not to focus on that anymore, instead pulling all his effort into the man practically melting under his fingertips. "I'll do this all night for you if you want."

Clover's eyes were sparkling once they were opened, the motion lazy, sleepy. He grinned and took Qrow's hand in his, bringing it down to his lips and kissing each knuckle. Something about that motion flipped a switch in Qrow, and a warmth began spreading from his chest, flickering on nerves along the way like fairy lights. He could feel the warmth rushing up into his face, blooming colour in his cheeks. He prayed the room was dark enough for Clover not to notice.

But... Gods, his lips were soft. Soft and plump and smooth and sweet... The warmth spread further. What was this feeling...?

"That's why I went to Atlas, but... That's not the only reason why I stayed." Clover's voice brought Qrow's attention back to those oceanic eyes.

Qrow swallowed. "What else was there?"

Clover smiled. "I fell in love."

Qrow blinked in surprise, his pounding heart stopping short in confusion, wondering if he should feel disappointed, or threatened, or...

"With uhm... With who?"

"Not a who. A what." Clover stood up, still holding Qrow's hand in his and leading him over to the window. Qrow went to speak before his tongue froze behind his teeth. His confused heart was hushed by the sight of the night sky.

Swirls of pitch black and dreamy dark blue painted the main map of the sky above them, but long slivers of purple and green swam under the clouds, moving, long trails of silk and chiffon amid the woven fabric of night. The greens of the aurora were foresty, moss and emerald and leaves after rainfall, making a part of Qrow yearn for Patch. The purples were magical, the sort of colour you'd see in a dream and wipe away from the corner of your eyes once you woke up, forgetting the memory along with the dreamsand. The colours seemed to bring out the light in the stars too; they twinkled curiously in the sky, sparkling like white gemstones, the dots forming countless images were they to connect. It stole away Qrow's breath, swept it right out of his lungs, but he didn't mind. He suddenly realised how small he was in this world, looking up at the lights in the sky, but he found he didn't mind that either.

"I fell in love with this." Clover whispered, and Qrow understood perfectly.

But as he gazed up through the window, Clover stepped behind him, strong arms going around his narrow waist. Qrow's eyes widened and he remembered to breathe again, and that same warmth began to grow to heat. It should have been comforting, but it was alarming.

It was alarming because it was familiar.

"When I look at you, I feel the same way as I do when I look out at the sky, Qrow. I feel exactly as I did when I was a kid spending my first night in Atlas Academy, watching those colours dance."

Qrow swallowed, feeling himself lean into those words. Gods, he wanted to stay like this forever, but that Heat... He knew what it was, and he knew what would happen if he stayed there too long.

He turned quickly, surprising Clover enough for him to step back. But Qrow gripped the lapel of his jacket and brought him close. He kissed his partner soothingly, slowly, sighing as those wonderful lips melted against his. His own lips, his tongue, tingled as he felt Clover, tasted him. He wished he could stay... But he couldn't. He had to get back to his quarters. Now.

"I love you, Clover." He whispered.

"I - I love you too?" Clover's arms made to wrap around Qrow, but he knew he'd never leave if he let himself linger in the embrace, so he pushed back and fled, leaving Clover's quarters and leaving behind Clover himself. He could hear the Captain call for him, confused, hurt almost, and it was nearly enough for Qrow to turn heel and run back. But he knew what would happen if he did.

The Heat would take over them both.

\---

The fever was always the worst part of it.

Qrow told himself he was used to it by now. Why wouldn’t he be? It came every year and it went every year. And yet, despite this, it always took him by surprise.

He clutched at his shirt, at the bed sheets. Kept the room dark and the blinds drawn. No matter how many times he got off, the damn Heat wouldn’t subside. His body dripped with a layer of sweat; so used to the feeling was he that it felt like another layer of skin by now. It sank into his clothes until they clung, shifting uncomfortably in folds. If he went too long without touching himself, his vision would swim, a kaleidoscopic haze of lust and the setting sun reigning gold between the gaps in the blinds. It felt like his brain might just melt, drip out from pale pores and gather in salty droplets, pooling in every dimple and curve.

He hated this. He fucking _hated_ this.

He’d grown tired of cursing every god for this affliction, real or fake. It’s not like they cared enough to listen, after all. Qrow’s only option was to ride the boiling tide until his Heat would eventually subside, like a forest fire ceasing flame amid the rising sun on the horizon. To deal with this alone.

Well. That had always been his only option in the past.

Back when he was young and still had some hope for humanity, Ozpin had given him a gift. It had been a wonderful, eye-opening, terrifying gift. Just like that, Qrow wasn’t himself. Black feathers and hollow bones had given him more than the ability of flight, it seemed. It had given him invisibility, a cover. After all, who’d expect a harmless crow looming over oneself to be a spy? To be a Huntsman? To be anything other than what it appeared to be – a little black bird?

This form had changed him, though. Crows had patterns in their behaviour, in how they thought and felt and moved and lived. Once old enough, instinct would take over, and they would dedicate each and every day to finding a mate as though their lives depended on it (which, in the grand scheme of things, it often did). Many philosophers felt very proud in claiming that animals were slaves to their nature. To eat. To hide. To hunt. To fuck.

As if humans were any different.

Qrow arched his back until he was nearly up off the bed, his body following its wave of fire, the feeling like a match striking up his spine and setting him ablaze. It was too easy to tear at the bed sheets in his grip, too easy to pull off his sweat-soaked shirt and fling it away in frustration. But it was a useless exertion of energy. He probably could have stripped himself down to his bones and he wouldn’t have felt much cooler.

It would have been nice if Ozpin had mentioned that birds had mating seasons. That there was a chance that the natural carnal urges of his avian form would bleed into his everyday life for a time, whether he was in the form of a bird or even a man. Did Ozpin even know? Surely he would have known. _Should_ have known before he’d inflicted this on Qrow. He couldn’t even ask for advice on dealing with this – even if Oz was still active, Qrow would rather bury himself in the snowfields of Solitas before approaching Oz’s new form to get answers.

So Qrow kept it to himself. It was only a week or so of this. A single week... of unimaginable Heat. Of neediness and lust, and the overwhelming urge to simply let his instinct lead him to a resolution, to a relief.

To a mate.

And yet, a bigger part of himself had been adamant to ignore such amorous urges. Something that ran with that instinct, or perhaps even deeper than that, had forced Qrow to shut himself away through the years, to bear the throws of desire alone. It felt... dangerous, to let someone in at such a vulnerable moment. At least Qrow could say it wasn’t a result of insecurity though – he simply seemed to know that, if he had anyone when he was like _this_ , it would create something irrevocable. Something nobody could fix. He didn’t know what, he wondered if he ever would. But, embarrassing as it may sound, he felt afraid of treading over that boundary.

His body told him it’d all be okay if he was _with_ someone, though. He could feel it, feel the way his skin cried out for strong hands, or attentive lips. To feel someone else’s fever mingling with his own.

Qrow had been weak in most aspects of his life. It had simply been something he’d accepted at this point. But he could at least, in anything, be proud of himself for being steadfast in this regard. That wasn’t to say he’d never had sex – oh the stories he could tell – it simply meant that when these strange bursts of Heat took him over, he was available to nobody.

It had seemed like a natural truth that he would always remain this way. But that was before he met Clover.

And _that_ thought sent a new wave of want through Qrow, a craving like nothing else.

They’d got along, him and Clover. It was such a pleasant relief to spend time with him, to be around that positive energy. Sure, Clover was arrogant. Sure, he was stubborn, and militant, and sometimes a bit of a prick. But hey, Qrow could be a prick too.

But Clover was sweet. He was fond of the kids and, as it happened, fond of Qrow. Fond enough to have asked him out for coffee a mere few weeks after James had assigned them as teammates. Gods, he looked so adorable when he was nervous. Qrow had picked up on it, had clocked him brushing his thumb over his pin before he started chattering about this new café in Mantle he’d heard about, and how he thought Qrow would perhaps like to try it out with him, maybe?

Weeks turned into months. Movements and words, suggestions, things to test the waters of each other, had turned into subconscious habits. They’d grown used to each other, as though they’d been together all along. Two pieces, perfectly fine on their own, but _amazing_ when put together.

And Qrow was happy. He was _so happy_.

Even in that moment, as Qrow laid back on the bed, damp locks of black hair getting tussled amid the pillow, he had to smile at the memory of the man. But the smile twisted, weighed down with guilt.

It had been an entire day since he’d spoken to Clover, too caught up in the fires of lust that refused to leave him be. He told himself that, the next time the wave would simmer down, he’d call. But each time, he barely had enough time to sleep, or eat, and then the fire would drown him again, demanding, begging for a partner. An instinct in constant demand.

And besides, Qrow feared that if he called, if he heard that sweet, wonderful, strong voice, his will would falter. Then again, even without this animalistic Heat, Qrow wouldn’t find it easy to stay away from Clover regardless.

It certainly helped that he was handsome. That sculpted body worthy only of the highest forms of worship, that solid jaw, those muscular arms... And he was born with a face so many would kill for (or at least pay thousands to replicate with plastic and silicone). His features were strong, beautiful, but what drew Qrow to him most was that smile of his. That happy-go-lucky smile that only needed to tilt just a bit to transform into such a cocky little smirk. Gods, he was such an arrogant bastard and Qrow loved him for it.

Those eyes. Those _eyes_.

The man was utterly wasted in the cold of Atlas. His eyes held the same shade of exotic reefs, of delicate sea glass, of glistening pure jade. Clover was warmth, he was unbridled fire, but those eyes were waves of refreshing seafoam that were so alluring, so easy to get swept out to the watery depths in.

Qrow let out a shuddering breath. Had it not been for the bothersome chill in the room that the generators just couldn’t compete with, he wouldn’t have bothered even putting his clothes back on since the last wave. In the brief moments once his Heat subsided, the cold of Atlas would creep back into his core and wouldn’t leave him for even a moment. It was frustrating – it left his sweaty skin shivering, more sensitive to the touch, as if he needed anything else to add to the heedless lust.

Qrow knew when another wave was coming on by the familiar stirring in his abdomen, a teasing ache running up his thighs. He’d find himself not feeling the cold anymore, find himself swallowing back saliva more and more often until before he knew it he was panting and breathless, embarrassingly needy. Stupidly horny.

Now, though, as he cursed to himself while he stripped off his pants, underwear, socks, as he laid back in bed bare to the room, he found his thoughts drifting to Clover. It wasn’t often he thought of people in particular when the throws of lust took over him. But in these moments of Hellfire, it felt like his body called out for Clover, reached for him. Qrow wanted him and him alone. Wanted to be looked after, wanted to be touched. No, he _needed_ to be touched like this.

Qrow hesitated, but only for a moment. That motivation to stay isolated was dwindling fast... but there was something else accompanying it. For the first time, Qrow didn’t feel that uncertainty anymore, the desire to push away, to remain alone. The thought of doing this with Clover, of having _him_ help Qrow through this... it didn’t feel wrong to want that. In fact, the idea of Clover screwing him when he was so sensitive and wanton... excited him. His nerves came alive and his skin shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold.

Qrow put a hand over his face, a new type of bloom rising to his cheeks. Was it right to think of Clover like this? Granted, they _were_ dating now, but...

It didn’t seem to matter whether it was right or wrong, his mind still drifted to that wonderful man. Qrow ran his hands down his thighs, somewhat aware of the roughness of the scarred skin compared to the rest of his form, and he wondered what it would feel like if Clover touched him. Would his hands be rougher? Calloused? Would he be able to squirm out of that grip? The possibility of a ‘no’ thrilled him. The one downside to being as strong as someone like Qrow is that, if you wanted to take the backseat during sex, it was hard to properly let go without overwhelming your partner, winning the game you’re supposed to lose. But the idea that Clover might be able to pin him down, might be able to hold him against the bed, restrain him... brothers above, his whole body came alive with that desire.

He found himself already stroking along his length with his thumb, wrapping his fingers around the head and rubbing into the swollen flesh. A shuddering exhalation of air forced its way out from between Qrow’s chapped lips, and his long legs fell open of their own accord, waiting to welcome a partner that wasn’t there... yet.

How well would Clover fit between his legs? Would he slot perfectly into Qrow like a puzzle piece? Or would he push him that extra mile, force him wider and fuck him until he couldn’t walk the next day - ?

Gods, he’ll never be able to look Clover in the eye after tonight.

At this point, he didn’t care. The more he gave into the call of lust, the more that any logical thought drained from his brain until he was left with nothing more than what his body called for. His cock always got more sensitive during Heat (well, his entire body did in all fairness), so simply stroking himself like this was enough for him to moan so breathlessly that it filled up the quiet room. He probably sounded ridiculous; he covered his mouth with one hand and sped up with the other, his toes flexing and clenching the damp bedsheet beneath him. With how stressful these past few months had been, Qrow had had no time to prepare for this – he’d honestly made the terrible mistake of forgetting this was even coming up, so he was awfully unprepared for his Heat. No toys, no condoms, not even lube. But at least it wasn’t too bad if he remained by himself, his body already _wet_ enough through sweat and precum to allow the motions of touching himself as he was to go smoothly.

It’d probably feel incredible if Clover touched him like this. Qrow could already imagine those muscular arms wrapping around from behind him; he’d count the galaxy of freckles trailing down the soft tan of skin as Clover squeezed his cock, pumping him until he was so needy and sensitive... he wondered what that other hand might do in the meantime. Trail up and down his abs until his skin was trembling under the featherlight touch, speckled with goosebumps? Would he play with Qrow’s nipples, worry them between his digits, pinch and tug until they were pebbled and hard? Or would Clover clamp that hand around Qrow’s mouth until he couldn’t cry out, couldn’t breathe?

He needed Clover. He needed him right then and right there. He couldn’t fight it anymore, didn’t want to. Qrow _had_ to have Clover.

His scroll began to buzz. Once upon a time, he may have ignored it to indulge in himself. But with everything going on in the world, in his group, he could no longer afford that luxury. So, he looked over and forced his roaming hands to still. But, as luck would have it, it wasn’t just anyone calling.

Clover’s name flashed in white on the holo-screen of Qrow’s battered scroll, and his heart fluttered. Maybe, just maybe, if Clover wasn’t busy...

He swallowed, and answered the call. “Hey, lucky charm.”

“Good evening, pretty bird.”

Qrow shivered; something about Clover’s voice... gods, he had no clue what was different, but a new wave of Heat came over him. Was it Clover’s tone? Was it because he was already thinking about the man? Or was there something running deeper...?

Qrow licked his lips again, running his hand down to the base of his cock, up to the head, the pattern repeating smoothly in spite of his trembling fingers. “You uhm... you alright, boy scout?”

“Just wanted to see if you were alright. I... I haven’t heard from you all day. You just sort of took off last night...” He paused, and the room became filled with the softness of Qrow’s panting. It spilled over into the warm air until there was nothing but that sound.

Qrow gulped down the fever rising through him. “Y-yeah, I’m sorry about that, I just... do you think you could come over soon?”

“Absolutely, just filling out the last of this report. You sure you’re alright?”

“I just...” He pushed his fringe out of his face, his sweat enough to hold the damp locks in place, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth before committing to the plea. “I want you, Clover.”

“You...? Do you mean what I think you mean...?”

Qrow could already picture him, leaning back into his chair, triangular eyebrow raised in surprise, in curiosity. The regimes of Atlas had done their damage, but it wasn’t quite enough to completely squash out the curiosity in that man. That was one thing Qrow would gladly praise the gods for. His voice deepened as he spoke, testing the waters, trying to see where he stood. Qrow could hear it, and he grinned as though he were already victorious.

“You know exactly what I mean, lucky charm.” He bit his bottom lip once again, dragging his hand further down. His breath hitched as he palmed as his balls; gods, Clover better not have his scroll on loudspeaker. “You alone?”

“All by myself. What... what _are_ you doing? Are you working out?”

“No.”

“Just got out of the shower?”

“Don’t play pretend. Guess again.” Qrow smirked.

“Qrow, I don’t – oh. _Oh._ ”

Qrow let out a long sigh, waited for Clover to make his move. And yet, a long moment was allowed to pass between them. Was it perhaps too soon in their relationship to be this forward? Was Clover not all that into him? Maybe he wasn’t into Qrow at all, actually.

He tried to convince himself he was just overthinking again, but he still forced himself to slow his breathing. He wasn’t sure if he’d just messed it all up, scared Clover away. The dread was almost enough for him to lose his hard-on; his knees closed together in hesitation, in preparation for rejection – then again, he always seemed readied against that.

“Are you... are you getting off without me, birdie?”

Relief flooded through Qrow’s system, and he couldn’t help but get giddy at the tone Clover’s voice dipped into, hearing the way his breath hitched right before he asked the question, the cheeky smile that shone through his words. “Maaaybe.” He purred down the scroll.

“Hm, here I am all alone while you’re having the time of your life in your quarters. You’re cruel, Qrow.”

“I never – _hmm_ – I never said you weren’t invited.”

Clover chuckled softly, that edge of _something_ in his voice trailing a shiver over Qrow’s chest. His nipples perked up in interest, but both of his hands were too occupied to do anything about it. In fact, his whole body was crying out for attention now.

“I was worried about you, you know.”

“I know... I know. I’m sorry.”

“Heh, I’m just glad you’re alright, baby bird.”

“ _Hmm_...” Qrow shut his eyes and smiled softly, basking in the tenderness of such affection. He put his scroll on loudspeaker and plopped it by his pillow, freeing his hand. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Oh do you? I’ll have to call you that more often then.” Clover chuckled, listening to the way Qrow breathed down the scroll. Maybe he was listening in to see if he could figure out what Qrow was doing too. Qrow liked having this attention on him – at least, when it was Clover giving him such attention. “So... what are you doing now? Are you fingering yourself?”

Qrow got goosebumps at the directness. This was going better than he’d thought. “N-not yet. Do you want me to?” He sped up with his hand, his lips parted so he could breathe down the scroll.

He could hear Clover’s smile in his words. “I’d love you to.” Clover paused, as if listening out for something. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed, gravelly down the scroll in a way that made Qrow shiver. “Get yourself all nice and wet and open for me. I didn’t think you’d do this sort of thing in your quarters.”

“Saying the guy giving me pervy orders on your scroll.”

“You answered while you were masturbating, birdie. You could have ignored my call.”

“Ignore _you_ , soldier boy? Never.” Qrow’s eyes rolled back a little as he started rolling the pads of his fingers against his entrance, touch by touch, already wet from sweat and eagerness. He had to lift his legs better to reach – gods, if anyone saw him like this, so debauched, pawing at himself as he panted down his scroll...

Ah, fuck ‘em.

Clover let out a breathy groan, pausing to lick his lips. “Are you going to send me a pic?” He prompted hopefully.

“No.”

“Aw, don’t be a tease. You owe me after how much you’ve worried me.”

Qrow bit his bottom lip. He _did_ feel guilty, but he wasn’t going to let Clover use that to his advantage, the bastard. “I’ll do you a better deal. If you get off your ass and come to my room, you can take all the pics you like.” Qrow promised. “And bring some lube. I don’t have any.”

“Heh. Lucky me...”


	2. Chapter 2

Qrow shrugged on a dressing gown once he heard the sound of knocking at his door (though, it was more of a bath robe than anything. Atlas standard issue, thin but insulated. Noticeably short, but at least it showed off his legs). Clover always had a musical little knock, one Qrow had gotten to love.

He held a hand over his chest as he answered the door, trying to convince his heart to slow just a few beats before it burst out of his chest. The thought that he’d never screwed anyone in his Heat before (much less _been_ screwed either) hung over his head like a nervous reminder, but an exciting one too. But then, as light flooded in when he opened the door, when he finally saw Clover standing there, his nerves soothed until all that remained was the background buzzing of desire he’d started to get used to.

Oceanic eyes hushed his heart, and warm arms embraced him tightly as though he was actually something precious. Qrow’s arm was trapped to his chest as Clover hugged him, but he still was free to use his other to hug back, running his hand along the curve of Clover’s back. To burrow his face into the crook of Clover’s neck and feel his warmth, take in the scent of cologne and summer fields and _Clover_. His knees nearly buckled.

“You’re affectionate, huh?” Qrow commented, pulling back just a touch and wriggling his arm out from where it remained trapped between their chests.

“I missed you.” Clover said softly, and Qrow’s pulse fluttered back to life. Clover always said the sweetest things, the perfect words to help Qrow’s battered old heart heal bit by bit, kiss by kiss, drips and drops of affection he had been convinced he wasn’t worthy of.

“You’re such a sap.” Qrow smiled gently.

“Hey, you can’t spell ‘ _Clover’_ without ‘ _lover’_.” Clover winked.

Qrow stared at him. “Really. I had no idea.”

“Oh come on, that one was good.”

“I actually think I threw up in my mouth a little.”

“Ouch. Now that would honestly hurt my feelings... if I really thought for a second that you meant it.” Clover beamed.

Qrow rolled his eyes, closing the space once again to get a kiss. Clover’s tongue lapped at Qrow’s lips, asking to delve deeper, and who was Qrow to deny that little request when it was asked so sweetly? He sighed as Clover’s embrace tightened, and that was all it took to spike up the temperature in the pit of his body, his very being. His thighs shook just a touch, and he bit down on Clover’s tongue so he could lick at the tip freely, leisurely. It was wonderful to not just _hear_ Clover’s surprised groan, but to _feel_ his excited breath brush at his skin. He was reluctant to release his grip, grinning as he felt Clover try to wriggle his tongue against Qrow’s teeth, but the thought of what else that tongue might be able to do once freed was enough for Qrow to show a bit of mercy.

“Cheeky bird.” Clover panted softly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“Bet you’re not used to not being in charge, huh?” Qrow made a show of running his own tongue over his teeth for Clover, and the way those seafoam eyes _darkened_ at the display made Qrow’s blood bubble excitedly as it rushed to one very particular place. He wondered how dark he could get them to go.

“I wouldn’t say that... but it sounds to me like you might need someone with authority to put you in your place.”

Qrow chuckled. “Just get the damn door closed. I want to see what you can do.”

Clover hummed, smirking, before turning and shutting the door, fiddling with the lock for a moment. But a moment was all Qrow needed to slip out of the bath robe, letting it pool around his feet so all that remained covering him was his pendant.

Clover paused when he turned, taking his time to look over Qrow’s body. To take in every scar, every edge, every muscle and bone. Qrow held his breath. Would Clover like how he looked? He wasn’t a massive fan of the body he had in all honesty, but it’d never caused any problems with other partners. But with Clover... he wanted to be better. He wanted to be what Clover deserved. He sometimes wondered if he ever could be.

“You...” Clover cleared his throat, “you are just beautiful, Qrow. Absolutely beautiful.”

Qrow put a hand on his hip, trying to joke his way out of the gentle sweetness willing its way up his stomach to his chest, warming his pale complexion to a flustered pink. “I reckon you don’t scrub up half bad yourself, boy scout.”

Clover laughed softly, making his way back to Qrow, landing his hands on each alabaster hip, eyes traveling to take in each inch. Qrow felt like he was under the most wonderful spotlight when Clover smiled to himself like that, his hands moving upward and making lazy trails over scars along the way.

“And I get you all to myself. I really am lucky.” He flicked his thumb over his pin, but Qrow reached and took that hand into his. Strong, steady hands, warm and filled with life, like every other part of Clover. Qrow brought Clover’s thumb to his lips, a surge of energy striking him, as though he could feel the Captain’s very Aura colliding, settling with his own amid a dance of red and green in his head. And when he noticed Clover watching his every move with such anticipation, he smirked, and slipped his thumb between his lips. It was exhilarating to watch Clover’s lips part, suck in a shocked breath, and Qrow rolled his tongue over the warm calloused skin in circles, careful around the nail for his own sake.

Slowly, he withdrew, but as he did so, Clover pinched the tip of his tongue, holding it in place with a vengeful grin.

“Get on the bed.” He whispered.

Qrow beamed.

It was easy to get overwhelmed with a partner like Clover. Every kiss on Qrow’s skin, no matter how chaste, was like a flick of fire leaving sparks running through his nerves. Those lips ran faithfully up and down his abs while Clover’s hands held narrow hips steady, so steady Qrow couldn’t even wriggle in his grip. He liked the security a lot more than he’d imagined.

It wasn’t until Clover was biting at Qrow’s ribs, softly at first, before dipping deeper and pinching with his teeth until little red sparks of Aura fluttered around his mouth, that Qrow gave himself the allowance of moaning out loud. By now, his neck was littered with a meadow of red and purple, his nipples slick and pebbled, his legs shaking. His every sense was heightened, his every nerve alight with energy. Even without his Heat making Qrow extra-sensitive to every touch, it felt incredible.

“You’re so eager, baby bird. What’s got you all worked up?” Clover panted, gloved hands trailing up and grabbing at a pale chest, the feeling of cooled leather against Qrow’s hot skin making his back arch of its own accord. His middle fingers flicked Qrow’s nipples in unison as he spoke, the movement too skilful to be shrugged off as anything other than the touch of an experienced lover. Qrow had to grip at the pillow just to survive the shockwaves of energy rolling through his chest; Clover moved up to plant a kiss right behind his ear to round off the pleasure, the touch so tender while a bruised pale body tried to heal in contrast. How could one man be so bestial but then so gentle in but a few short moments?

The best kind of man, it seemed.

Clover probably wouldn’t believe Qrow if he told him why he was so horny this night, or the night before that. He already knew about his bird form – James had taken the liberty of informing him without Qrow getting the chance to do so himself – but the fact that instinctive natures like Heat bled into his human form sounded crazy even to Qrow, and he was the bastard who had to deal with it. So instead he just sighed and pressed his own hips, his hardness, into Clover’s crotch, smirking at the feeling of a bulge pressing back in response. “What can I say, soldier boy? How can I not get excited when you waltz around in those tight pants like you own the world?”

Clover hummed, cocking an eyebrow. “Even on your back, you’re still a sarcastic little shit.”

“Sarcasm and an overreactive libido is all a man has, Cloves. Now are you gonna keep me waiting?” He tilted his head, coy as ever. “Or are you finally gonna take off the uniform and have some fun?”

Clover laughed as he undid his waistcoat, thumb brushing along the cold metal of the clover pin before he let it hang on the end of Qrow’s bed. He already had Qrow splayed out in front of him, for fuck’s sake, how much more luck could he need?

Qrow let the thought slide out of his inflamed brain when off came the dark grey vest laying under the coat, and that last layer revealed a chest that made Qrow salivate. Beautiful pecs, perfectly sculpted abs, that alluring V-shape dipping down into Clover’s pants, like markers pointing towards the growing bulge between solid thighs. All peppered with freckles that only seemed to come out the warmer the Captain got, a strangely adorable edge to the rest of the man’s sturdiness.

His body called for this. Had longed for this. Now that Clover was stood before him, as a monument waiting for its due worship, Qrow managed to wonder in his haze how he could ever have gone so long without this. How had he deprived himself? How had he tortured himself? Nobody was deserving of such denial, not even him.

Yet, on the other hand, a part deep in him felt so warm with the knowledge that Clover was the first to see him like this, to _have_ him like this. It wasn’t the same sort of warmth emitted by his Heat, not the type to command his body like this, to beg and whine and ache until he gave in. This was a tenderness, a love of a gentle kind. This was... bubbly. That was the only way Qrow could think to describe it. Was this how he would have felt if he’d taken a partner when this all started? Would it have been more intense when he was younger?

Or did he just feel this way because of Clover?

“This good enough for you, birdie?” Clover’s voice cut through the fever fogging Qrow’s head, something cheeky in his voice, something loving.

“No.” Qrow admitted, “I need you now. Right now, Clover.”

Clover smirked, raised an eyebrow once more, “Well maybe I want to indulge in you for a while longer.”

“Please.” The word barged its way out of Qrow’s mouth, and while his first instinct was to recoil, he knew there was nowhere to hide from the honesty he let himself show. He had barely registered the desperation in his body before, but now it was at the forefront of his mind, painted on his face in droplets of perspiration and impatience. How could he hide when he was spread so bare in front of Clover like this? The answer was he couldn’t, not when Clover opened his mouth in silent questioning, in surprise. Qrow swallowed, and in a smaller voice, “ _please_.”

Clover smiled, nodded once, and pulled out the tube of lube he’d brought with him. He wagged it in front of Qrow, as if to assert that he had indeed done as asked. Was he expecting a reward? Qrow mentally rolled his eyes and reached out for Clover, holding him close, kissing him and _not_ biting his tongue in place. Instead, Qrow finally let his lover take the wheel of the situation, giving all he could offer. And Clover took it all – not selfishly, not with haste, but with gratefulness. He held Qrow like he was precious and good, kissed him like he was a treasure. Qrow bathed in the affection, gasping against plump lips as Clover used his body to pin all of Qrow to the bed, muscle pushing him down into the sheets.

He _liked_ that.

He smirked just a touch, and moved best as he could manage with the restrictions, grinding up against his lover. “This’d be a lot easier if you took your pants off.”

“You don’t say?” Clover gave him a look. “This’d be even easier if you were on your knees.”

“And why is that?” Qrow noticed that even now, when he was so desperate for a good fuck, he still couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He didn’t much care to correct this.

“It seems to me that you haven’t done this in a while. It’ll be easier for you in that position.” He stroked Qrow’s creamy thighs affectionately. “I don’t want to hurt you during our first time. I want everything to go smoothly.”

“Aw, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Qrow drawled.

Clover rolled his eyes. “On your knees.”

“Ooh, is that an order?” Qrow rested his hands behind his head casually, trying to pretend he wasn’t all too eager to get on all fours. He didn’t want Clover to think of him as some helpless, delicate lamb. He wanted to show he could take all of Clover, as he was. He shouldn’t have to hold back.

“Do you want it to be, baby bird?”

“Maybe. I like you giving orders.” Whether Qrow intended on following those orders was another matter.

Clover chuckled, before planting his hands on either side of Qrow’s head. “On your knees. Now.”

Qrow smirked. “No.”

Qrow’s smirk grew to a grin as Clover grabbed him, flipping him harshly and moving him until he was in the position Clover wanted him to be. His body flooded with aches of stunted pleasure as he was moved so roughly, even if he could have easily fought back if he wished to, and he parted his legs further in anticipation. Clover reached down, his chest pressing into the curve of Qrow’s back, and he grabbed at Qrow’s chin to yank his head up. “You’ll do what you’re told next time.”

“And if I don’t?” Qrow twisted a little in Clover’s grip, flashing him a smirk.

“I know what you want. You want it rough. You want to be completely overwhelmed.” Clover shifted so their eyes could meet. Oceanic waves were still as a lake now, his eyes as resolute and clear as his voice. “I won’t punish you by being rough. I’ll punish you by taking away everything you want. I’ll be gentle, I’ll be frustratingly gentle, and I’ll leave you hanging. But...” He kissed Qrow tenderly, that pinching grasp suddenly moving up to stroke Qrow’s cheek. “...If you’re good, I’ll fuck you until you’re shaking. I’ll fuck you straight into this bed.”

Qrow felt hot shivers run down his spine; Clover was completely serious. Gods, if Qrow passed up an opportunity like this for the sake of a few snarky remarks, he’d be the biggest idiot on Remnant. And his body would just despise him for the rest of the week. To get screwed like that when he was already so sensitive, so on-edge, so desperate... that would probably be the closest to heaven Qrow would ever get. Qrow bit his bottom lip. “So... if I’m a good boy, you’ll give me what I want?”

“Love, I’d give you the world if you asked.” Clover smiled softly.

“I don’t want the world,” Qrow nuzzled his nose against Clover’s, “I just want you.”

Clover beamed, kissing him again lovingly, “And you say _I’m_ the sap.”

Qrow chuckled into Clover’s lips, but his voice shifted as he felt fingers circling at his entrance. His back arched, pressing himself into those digits wantonly. Sparks shot up through his abdomen at the touch, and Clover groaned softly as Qrow moved.

“You’re so slick. Were you already playing with yourself before I came round?”

“N-no, actually. Not there.” He panted quietly, shutting his eyes and hanging his head as he let himself feel the pleasure, indulged in it.

“You’re telling me you get _wet_? Naturally?”

Only in Heat. But he couldn’t exactly tell Clover that. “Y-yeah.”

“Are you lying to me, baby bird?” Clover gave his earlobe a light nip, and he supressed the urge to whimper.

“I’m not lying. I – _hah_ – wouldn’t lie about that.” Qrow arched his back, lowering his position until his head came to rest on the pillow. Clover was still so close, though, his breath hot on the back of Qrow’s neck. The feeling made goosebumps raise over his arms and down his back, and he pressed his ass into Clover’s hand once again like he was asking for him. A single digit pressed in, and Qrow had to moan. Even that small stretch was better than anything else, mattered more than anything else. Clover licked a stripe up Qrow’s spine and blew, the cold air sending shivering waves over Qrow’s fair skin until he was keening.

“I’ll admit, you are still pretty tight...” Clover observed, the sound of him licking his lips making Qrow grip the pillow in his fists. “Gods, it’s going to be amazing filling you up. Stretching you so wide. Are you going to moan for me like you are now? You’re already making the loveliest little sounds.”

“ _Fffuck_... Clover...” Qrow buried his face in the pillow, and Clover kissed his shoulder, the bottle of lube popping open almost like a warning. Shocking cold breached his body and he winced, but the feeling of two fingers was enough to make up for it. And with how hot he was, it wasn’t long before the coldness ebbed away until it was just slickness and stretching and fingers. Trembles were already running down Qrow’s thighs, and when he looked between his legs, his cock was dripping. Droplets of creamy white formed little damp spots on the sheets. Was he even going to last? He couldn’t help but grimace at how embarrassing it’d be to come undone so soon into this. He wondered briefly if Clover might think any less of him, sensitive as he currently was. He wanted to turn around and swear he wasn’t usually like this, he wanted to explain it all.

But Clover wouldn’t understand. Who would?

So Qrow bit down on the pillow as a third finger pressed into him, his inner walls shaking, coming alive with the wonderful intrusion. He whined into the soft cotton, keeping his eyes closed even as Clover’s free hand travelled up his body, pinched and rubbed at delicate pink nipples on a not-so-delicate body, teasing pleasure adding to the stretch until Qrow was close to becoming putty in those strong, assertive hands.

“Gods, I can’t get over how beautiful you are, baby bird.” Clover continued, as if he was totally oblivious to how his voice, his words, were affecting Qrow. It was like every word seemed to amplify the Heat, channel it through Qrow’s veins until his skin was dewy with sweat. And the things he said... it was hard to remember the last time anyone had said such lovely things to him. It left him giddy, high on pleasure and Heat and affection. “You’re being so good for me, so perfect, gods I love you. Let me see if I can make you feel even better than you do now.”

Qrow thought lazily that that might not be possible, and then Clover curled his fingers.

He’d struck gold inside Qrow, the tips of his fingers brushing against something that threatened to tip Qrow over the edge then and there. He cried out as pure white heat burst through his body without warning, and gods, when Clover began to _stroke_ that spot...

Qrow couldn’t register the bed sheets tearing under his fingers, or the soothing kisses pressed into his neck, or the weight of Clover mounting him to hold him in place. All he could think about was that incredible pleasure, that maddening lust. It was too much. It was far too much.

It was perfect.

“Fuck, _fuck_! _Ah_ , gods, Clover! _Clover_ \- !”

That was the only warning Clover got before Qrow came, streaks of white staining the bed as his hole clenched, gripping Clover’s fingers. Qrow barely registered the way his lover hissed as he was gripped, but couldn’t will himself to focus on it, not when waves of carnal lust made him unravel. He gripped the pillow with all his might, the ricochet of lust wrecking him until he was but a puddle of a man on the bed.

But it didn’t end there.

Heat broke briefly, and Qrow was enveloped with that same bubbly warmth from before. But now it was at the forefront of everything he was, the afterglow lighting up everything gently in him. He could have been floating and he wouldn’t have noticed.

The warmth welcomed strong arms that enveloped him. Clover’s scent became all he wanted to breathe as the Captain gently kissed up his neck, stroked up and down his arms with so much affection, so much patience.

“Well,” Clover smiled against Qrow’s skin, “that was unexpected.”

“Ngh.”

“You alright?”

“Sorry...”

“For what? That was beautiful.” Clover stroked his hair, which didn’t help much to ease the embarrassment, but Qrow found he loved that tenderness more than anything. He loved the feeling of Clover’s fingers threading through his locks, and he shifted gingerly just to let him do it more. “Besides, we can always go another round. I was hoping on getting you off a lot more than just once tonight.”

Qrow smiled idly. “We can try to even out the score.”

Clover chuckled, kissing down Qrow’s back happily, tracking ribs, vertebrae, hip bones... stroking vanilla thighs as he left ghostly nibbles over the flesh of Qrow’s ass. He pressed kisses and half-nibbles into the skin where Qrow’s ass met his thigh, a bit of a sweet spot for him. Qrow sighed against the pillow, smiling to himself as he was pampered. As a warm tongue rubbed circles into the space, Qrow’s light-headedness nearly caused him to _giggle_.

But then Clover pressed deeper, moved further up. His hands held Qrow thighs steady as he tongued at his lover’s hole, lightly at first. Qrow let out a surprised whine, and the Heat resurged through him like it had a vengeance.

“Hmm, you sound so sweet when you’re all worn out.” Clover licked a long stripe from Qrow’s balls up to his entrance. Qrow could feel his hole twitch at the touch, already aching for more.

“W-what are you doing?” He breathed, twisting to look back at Clover.

“I thought you might want me to eat you out. Get you nice and horny again.” Clover smiled, and quite literally kissed Qrow’s ass.

“Trust me, you won’t need to do much.” Qrow chuckled breathlessly. The afterglow of his last climax still lingered as a fog in his head, but he could already feel his Heat lighting back up again, and he just knew it was going to be an intense wave.

Clover pushed Qrow’s thighs apart, and Qrow actually felt himself blush a little as Clover’s eyes fell on his cock, like he was being examined. His heart sped up with the thrill of being watched like this, being investigated. “You’re hard again so soon? You’re a sensitive little bird, aren’t you?”

“You bastard, no I’m not,” he lied, “just... not always this much...”

Clover hummed, tonguing at Qrow’s entrance until the slick muscle slipped into delicate twitching flesh. Qrow shuddered, toes curling in excitement. Clover was _enjoying_ this, keeping him tethered to the edge, playing with him. What a fucking tease.

But he couldn’t even complain. It was too wonderful to complain. Any other time, he would stay just like this and let Clover eat his utter heart out, but right now... right now his Heat called for more.

“C-Clover... Come on, please, just...” Qrow clenched his eyes shut, his body aching for more than this, anything more, “I can take it, I can take you, I just... I need you...”

Clover chuckled, the sound muffled, before pulling back and kissing Qrow’s tailbone. “Seeing as you asked so nicely...”

Qrow worried his bottom lip between his teeth, listening to the popping of Clover’s pants button, the slow descent in pulling down the zipper. Gods, why couldn’t he just hurry up?

Qrow grumbled, craning his head back to berate Clover, “for crying out loud, how long does it take to - ?!”

Clover was big.

He was _big_.

Qrow swallowed back the rest of his complaint. All he could do was watch with bated breath as Clover pushed his pants off the bed and stroked a liberal amount of lube over his huge cock, follow the way his firm hand moved up and down so enticingly. A pearly bead of precum began to form at the slit, and Qrow’s mouth watered. Clover was gifted in thickness as well as length; the man was going to spread him so wide with that thing, fill him up so completely. Qrow suddenly became very aware of how narrow his hips were in comparison - he was going to be ruined by the end of this.

He couldn’t wait.

“You’re impatient tonight.” Clover groaned with a mild tilt of his head.

“You could have warned me you were carrying a fucking weapon.” He gasped.

Clover chuckled. “You’re cute. Don’t worry, little bird, I’ll look after you.”

Qrow tried to make himself scoff, but couldn’t deny the tremors of concern running alongside anticipation though his thighs. But as the head of Clover’s cock finally started to breach Qrow’s form, he found himself no longer capable– or perhaps no longer willing – to care. A fog of pleasure, of contentment, of _yes gods this is perfect_ filled his mind, and his eyes rolled back as he was pressed into inch by inch. He couldn’t help but whimper and press his face into the pillow as his body cried out in celebration, the pleas of his instinct finally answered after so many years. This was perfect, this was incredible, this was appeasement. This was Clover.

“You okay, birdie?” Clover panted, gripping Qrow’s bony hips to keep him steady.

“God – _fuck_ – don’t stop, _please_.” Qrow prayed into the pillow, the sting of the stretch only heightening his every sense. His every nerve was alight, and as Clover shifted to lean atop his form, Qrow’s back arched of its own accord as if begging for more.

And Clover seemed to hear the plea. He kissed Qrow’s shoulder blade as he moved his hips, pressing _deeper_. It then occurred to Qrow just how much Clover had been holding back, as the length already in him doubled, filling him up completely, stretching him so wide that all he could do in response was let his mouth hang open and allow his body to feel the new weight inside him. Clover was so hard, so unyielding, he may as well have been fucking Qrow with a toy. But this was better than any toy Qrow had dabbled with. His aching body could feel every throb of Clover’s cock, and the heat was so immense Qrow would have worshipped it. He pulled his hips forward, every movement tentative, before pressing back and impaling himself. It couldn’t have been more than a few inches, but the fire that blew through Qrow’s veins suddenly became his world.

Clover groaned again, gripping Qrow’s hip to force him still. “Easy... gods you’re so tight, don’t you need more time to - ?”

“ _No_.” Qrow growled. “Fuck me. Fuck me right now.”

Clover blinked in surprise. “Shouldn’t we ease into it - ?”

“Clover _please_ , I’m begging you,” Qrow gazed back at Clover, his sensitive body crying out. It was almost painful to be refused that movement he so longed for, and he could no longer take it, “gods, I _need_ you, Cloves, I can’t stand it anymore – ”

“Shh, okay, okay,” Clover leaned over Qrow and stroked his cheek, rocking his hips against his lover’s until he was easing in and out, the angle so delectable even though the movement was currently so shallow, “I’ve got you... I’ll give you what you need, birdie, I’ll give you everything.”

Qrow could have sobbed against Clover’s lips. He very well might have, but the friction building up inside him caught all of his attention now.

Well, not all of it. He couldn’t help but register the tenderness in Clover’s oceanic gaze. The love, the adoration, shining through the darkness of lust. Clover kissed him, mouths messy, hungry for each other. He shut his own eyes and rested his forehead against Clover’s gratefully, eventually grinding his hips back into his lover’s cock in time with each shallow dive.

“Deeper,” he gasped once his body had gotten used to the level they were currently at, “please, _deeper_.”

Clover pulled out until only the head of his cock lingered inside, before snapping his hips forward and sheathing himself inside Qrow. The moan that was ripped out of Qrow was nothing short of downright sinful as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through his nerves, wobbled his very core. Clover smirked breathlessly. “Deep enough?”

“ _Yes_ , yes, fuck – gods – _yes_!” Qrow was happily a slave to this Heat, willing to do anything for it, for Clover. So when Clover yanked a handful of his hair and pushed his face into the pillow, he was more than eager to let him. Especially when Clover started fucking him like _that_ , nearly extracting himself completely before slamming back in, making Qrow’s inner walls tremble excitedly with every thrust. This was perfect.

But then Clover sat up and angled his hips, fucking up into Qrow’s prostate. Now _that_ was perfect. White light shot across Qrow’s vision with every angled thrust as Clover zoned in, milking that sweet spot for all it was worth. Qrow could only just hear the dribble of moans and cries spilling from his lips as he was drawn closer and closer to the edge. “ _Ahh_ , Clover – yes – fucking _god_ yes – right there – right _there_ – _yes_ – !” He wouldn’t last much longer, and he didn’t care. His ass clenched around Clover’s thickness and the fist in his hair tightened, and Clover sped up, rougher, quicker, until every thrust left him moaning in harmony with Qrow.

“Cum for me, Qrow,” Clover growled into his lover’s ear, “that’s it, let me see you burst...!”

As if on command, Qrow’s Heat burst through him in a way it never had before. Waves of fire burned him to a crisp as he reached his climax, his cock spurting creamy white over the bedsheets. And Clover stroked him through it; if his body wasn’t being milked before he certainly was now. His orgasm throbbed through him until Clover joined his crescendo, and Qrow couldn’t help but whine breathlessly as he felt his lover spill into him. And he thought he was full before Clover came.

Cum spilled from his body, dribbled down his trembling thighs, and Qrow was spent. The hand in his hair loosened, smoothed out the sweaty locks, and Clover peppered breathless kisses over whatever inch of blushed skin he could reach, Qrow’s face, his neck, shoulders, back. “God I love you,” he whispered between kisses as he moved back to Qrow’s face, pressing loving words against his lips and cheeks, “you’re so wonderful, I love you so much, Qrow...”

Qrow smiled softly, shifting just enough to kiss back, “I love you too.” And he meant it. Gods above, he’d never loved like that before. The afterglow was tangible in the air, the devotion, the care that lay in each kiss and touch, the truth in each kind word. Qrow wanted to stay tangled like this forever, to nest into Clover for the rest of his days.

Qrow gasped when Clover went to pull out. “N-no, not yet.” He said in a panic, not yet wanting to wake from this euphoric daydream.

Clover gave him a funny look.

“Just... not yet. Let me enjoy feeling you a bit longer.” Qrow smiled sheepishly, the fear of disconnect truly shaking him.

Clover nodded, putting his fears at rest, and soon his arms were wrapped around Qrow. He felt so warm, so safe, that time simply slipped through his fingers and he couldn’t care less. This was where he wanted to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Qrow couldn’t tell what time it was when he woke up. He assumed early morning, judging by the faintest streaks of gold infiltrating the comforting blue of the night sky. For the first time in a long time, he felt content. He must have gone into the deepest sleep he’d had in years.

He remembered that previous evening. How could he not, when his body was aching, and bruises ran down his skin? He smiled as he slowly sat up, testing the waters, and stretched. He’d finally done it. He’d gone through a Heat wave with someone else. He’d never known it would feel that incredible. Even if he’d known, though, he doubted he would have wanted to do it sooner, not if it wasn’t with Clover.

Deep down, he had known stepping over that line would cause... something to happen. Some vague threat on the horizon, something looming, keeping him from reaching out.

He knew now what his body was warning him from.

A bond.

When Qrow thought of Clover now, something new ran through him, something deeper than he’d ever felt for anyone. It drew him to Clover, tied him to the man. He already loved Clover so much, he didn’t think he could hold any more love in him.

The thought of losing Clover terrified him.

Where _was_ Clover, actually...?

“Ah, I hope I didn’t wake you.” A kiss on the top of Qrow’s head rose him out of his musings. He looked up and smiled at Clover, relief flooding his senses at the sight of the man... already back in his uniform.

“I didn’t like waking up without you,” Qrow found himself saying, “I thought you’d left.”

“Aw, birdie,” Clover smiled sadly, gesturing to the door, “I don’t want to leave you, but I... well, we have work to do, remember?”

A vision of the day ahead of him absorbed Qrow. Yearning. Longing. Pain. Neediness. Now that he knew what it was like to have someone in Heat, to have Clover of all people with him... He didn't know if he could stand the loneliness now. He sure as all Hell wasn't going to be able to go on any missions in this state.

"You feeling okay, Qrow?" Clover cupped his cheek, and Qrow committed to taking his hand and looking up at him, allowing Clover to see the desperation, the defeat, in his eyes.

"Cloves, I... I have to tell you something crazy, and I need you to just listen. Can you do that, soldier boy?"

Clover knelt before Qrow, the shining innocence in that gaze overwhelming, aching tremors thrown through Qrow's heart like a storm. This sweet, curious, lovely lucky man was his. But would he understand...?

"I'm... You know how certain animals go through heat cycles? Or, mating seasons?"

Clover nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah...?" His mouth made motions, ghosts of questions lingering on his lips, but he let Qrow continue instead.

Qrow squeezed Clover's hand. It sounded stupid just coming out of his mouth. How was this even true in his reality? "And... You know how I can turn into a bird...?"

Clover was silent for a few moments, both eyebrows raising this time. Qrow could practically see the cogs turning inside the Captain's head. "You're joking."

"Did last night feel like a joke to you?" Qrow drawled miserably.

Clover slowly sat back on the bed, the new weight forcing Qrow to shift into Clover's side. One part of him was expecting Clover to be ecstatic, to make some dumb sex joke as if it was all perfectly normal. The other part expected him to be disgusted. Perhaps assume that all this must surely make Qrow part animal as a result, part beast. He sure felt it more often than not.

"Wait so... It's... It's an instinct thing, right?" Clover inquired carefully, selecting his words with the same delicacy one might use to pick up shards of broken glass. "It's... It's not something you can control?"

"Pretty much." Qrow sighed, but Clover shifted to take a proper look at his lover. There was a genuine fear riding on the potential for guilt in Clover's eyes, and it stunned Qrow into a confused silence. What did he have to be guilty about?

"Were you... able to properly consent last night?" Clover swallowed, "gods, oh gods, Qrow I never meant to -"

"Hey whoa, easy. No, no it's nothing like that." He took Clover's hands in his as it clicked into place. The apprehension, the fear. Gods, this poor man was probably on the verge of a breakdown, and all Qrow wanted to do was laugh in exasperation.

There was almost a sweet sentiment in the fear, because of course Clover Ebi would never even consider such a thing.

"I _called_ _you_ to my room, remember? It's not like being completely driven by instinct, or anything. I can control myself, I just..." Qrow frowned as he tried to find a way to explain it in a way that didn't sound stupid, or awkward, or creepy. "Just.... Imagine constantly being horny. Just all the time. I can obviously still think about what I'm doing, and I could have stopped myself, and I could have stopped you. But I wanted you, Clover." He felt a sweet warmth bloom in his cheeks as he admitted that last part like it was a naughty secret. "God's, I wanted you so badly. It was driving me insane."

Clover softened in relief, in sympathy. "This is why you took off the other night."

Qrow nodded. “...Sorry, about that. I know it worried you.”

"Why didn't you say anything, birdie? Why suffer in silence?"

Now that was something he didn't have an exact answer to. Qrow was still struggling to place his finger on exactly what had transpired between them after last night, what may have happened to anyone he’d have bedded during Heat. All he knew was that there was _something_ holding him to Clover now – and he seemed to hope Clover felt the same. He could practically see the little red ribbon binding them to one-another. But he couldn’t just _say_ that, so instead he settled for a simple shrug. "I just... I'm used to dealing with this on my own."

"Gods, baby bird, that must have been torture. How long does this last?"

"Only about a week every year."

"'Only' a week? Qrow, I can't believe you've been suffering all on your own." Clover put a gentle hand on Qrow's thigh, and that was enough to reignite the Heat in him. He snapped his legs shut and pulled away.

"I uhm... I guess you can see why I'm a bit reluctant to see you leave, eh?" He tried to joke, but being left alone with this all day was a genuine fear.

Clover scratched the back of his neck, before taking out his scroll. "I... I suppose I'll just have to call the General. Use up some of my annual leave for once." He smiled.

Qrow blinked. "For me?"

"No, for a holiday in Argus. Of course for you."

Qrow went pink. Clover was always so punctual, so militant, he didn't know the Captain even realised that annual leave existed. "It's... I... I'm gonna be like this all week."

Clover smiled. "Hmm, a whole week with you, like this. I'll work it out." He kissed the top of Qrow's head.

"But your team...? Atlas...?" He stammered, trying to reason with Clover, to quell the giddy excitement bubbling up in him. Whenever he got excited he usually got crushed, so it was second nature by now.

"I've got a dusty old crow to look after." He wrapped an arm around Qrow, holding him close and practically purring against his lover's lips, "and trust me, I'll take excellent care of you."

The tone in his voice caused a rumble of excitement to perk up in Qrow. "I... Gods, Clover. I love you."

"I love you too. Think you can hold out until I'm done talking to Ironwood?"

Qrow swallowed. "I'll do my best. It'd be a lot easier if you weren't teasing me." He finally batted Clover's hand off his thigh.

Clover smiled, snickering, before holding out a key card to Qrow. "Get together what you might need. I want you in my room if I'm going to be looking after you."


	4. Chapter 4

Even the shower water felt harsh against Qrow's skin. He was always acutely aware of even the tiniest drop of water rolling down his back, torso, legs. The water was too hot and too cold altogether. His nipples perked up with interest as he scrubbed shower gel into his skin, and he scowled at himself. The worst part of all of this was how sensitive he was. He wasn't used to being delicate, and the thought alone sent a wave of shame cascading through him, baring down on his shoulders. Just a week, just a single week and it'd be over. At least the sex was going to be amazing.

Qrow had to focus all his energy on not thinking about that. Not thinking about how tightly Clover had gripped his hips, not thinking about how slick his tongue felt. Not thinking about how incredible his cock felt when -

Qrow knocked his forehead against the wall, scrambling to turn down the water's temperature. He was going to torture himself if he had carried on. He let out a deep, shaky breath, emptying his steam-filled lungs and trying to draw his attention to other things. Counting the tiles, washing his hair, singing to himself. Qrow didn’t like the sound of himself singing, to gravelly, too coarse and untrained, but at least it gave his mind something else to focus on.

It was as if a different level of Heat had been unlocked within him. In previous years, Heat had been a torture. He ached and throbbed and found no relief from it. Not in drink. Not in touch. Definitely not in abstinence. Now though, now that he had the memory of Clover’s touch lingering under his skin, Qrow felt alive. His blood hummed, an undercurrent of energy waiting to be set free at any given moment. His skin was pinpricked with goosebumps, his mouth constantly watered, every inch of himself was on alert. But not the same alert he would be in on missions, or in a fight. No, he wasn’t scanning, he was seeking. Waiting for some touch, some signal to begin the next wave.

But not only was he alert, not only was he sensitive all over, he felt dazed. Addled, like he was under some strange spell. He tried to keep his wits about him, but his mind was now prone to drifting. He only hoped this groggy, giddy feeling would fade at the end of the Heat.

He almost unravelled simply by cleaning himself out after last night. He still ached with the memory of Clover's presence inside him, that weight, that friction. It was something he didn't think he'd ever forget. His body felt moulded into his lover's shape, formed around him like puzzle pieces waiting to be slotted together.

Qrow decided, as he got out of the shower and wrapped a bath robe around himself, that he liked Clover's living quarters. It was bigger than his, but while Qrow's room was barren due to a lack of homeliness, Clover seemed to thrive under an aesthetic of functional minimalism. Each square of space had its purpose, and it was cleaner than most hotel rooms Qrow had known. But that wasn't to say it was lacking in warmth, or personality. The furniture was all standard issue, but there were trinkets and mementos scattered about the place. A patchwork blanket lay strewn on the sofa, possibly handmade, a holographic projection of a little four-leafed clover - because of course - and the odd photo on the walls of old friends, family. Certificates of graduation, ranking higher and higher through the military until he finally reached the role he had now.

He could hear Clover's voice. Qrow followed the sound tentatively, to discover Clover at his desk, the terminal displaying a holographic screen in front of him. He was talking to James.

"I still have to note, Clover, it's very unlike you to take this much time off." James inquired.

Qrow smirked; he was happy those screens didn't have a two-way system yet, because it meant that as he walked to the front of desk, Clover could see through to him, but James couldn't see a thing.

Clover's eyes flickered up to Qrow fondly, before focusing on the General once again as they finished up the arrangements for the Ace-Ops. Qrow grinned wickedly as the idea struck him. James wouldn't have a clue he was there, and hey, if Clover got mad, Qrow could just blame it on his Heat.

Qrow undid his bath robe, as he had done the previous night, letting it flutter down his form and settle around his feet. Clover's eyes were drawn back to Qrow, and there they stayed, eyebrows raised in question, in surprise. A look of _what are you doing?_ ran through those teal eyes, and Qrow simply smirked in response.

"Clover? Respond." James frowned. Qrow grimaced at the authority in his command.

"Ah, sorry sir. I think the signal cut out for a moment."

Clover's eyes kept flicking back to Qrow's body, and Qrow basked in the attention. But he didn’t just come here to let Clover ogle. He slowly sank down to his knees, eyes trained on Clover the entire time. He found it so enticing to watch the confusion, the excitement, that his lover tried to keep hidden as he continued talking to the General.

Qrow crawled under the table and squeezed Clover's thighs. The way he jolted was to die for. Qrow watched his hands ball into fists on each side as he landed cheeky kisses over his crotch. Clover was tucked too close to the table for Qrow to see his face, but he didn't need to. He could feel Clover's thighs clench, could feel the heat radiating from his bulge against Qrow's lips. He could hear Clover suck in a sharp breath, trying to appear calm and collected, quiet. What a good boy.

Qrow undid Clover's zipper with his teeth, and his mouth watered as he watched that bulge pucker out from the tight fabric. He lapped at Clover's crotch, wetting the fabric of his boxers, relishing in the way he twitched and shivered against him. Qrow could almost taste him through the thin material; his damp skin warmed up as his Heat rode through his nerves.

"Clover, are you sure you're okay?" James asked as Qrow pulled out Clover's cock.

He loved the feel of it in his hands. Firm, thick, hard already. The heady scent rushed to his brain, and he sighed as he suckled on the tip. The taste of creamy bitter salt spread through his mouth as he flattened his tongue against the hot flesh, and he was in heaven. Clover throbbed as Qrow sunk his head into his lover’s lap, shutting his eyes and savouring the heaviness filling his mouth.

“Y-yes sir, I – ” Clover was trying so hard not to let his voice wobble. Qrow only grinned around the thickness in his mouth; if Clover wanted him to stop, he could have reached down and pushed Qrow away, covered his crotch with his hand. But he’d kept his fists to his sides and let Qrow continue. He was _enjoying_ this. “I – I’ll have the reports sent over by this evening. Will that be all?”

“No, that will be all, I’ll leave you to it.” James ended the conversation once Clover saluted, and Qrow’s ears perked at the sound of the monitor switching off. He’d even pushed the camera to the side to ensure privacy, and Qrow waited with anticipation. He didn’t need to wait long; Clover’s hand was quick to reach down and grab a fistful of Qrow’s wet hair, before shoving him forward forcefully. Qrow stifled a gasp as the Captain’s cock was pressed further into his mouth until the tip lingered at the back of his throat. The sting only lasted a moment before he just _melted_ , relaxing his jaw and moaning out loud for his lover. Clover trembled as Qrow’s voice travelled through his swollen flesh, and he dragged Qrow back and forth until his lover’s head was bobbing on his lap.

In and out, in and out. Eventually his jaw began to ache but he no longer cared. Qrow hollowed his cheeks and sucked on that gorgeous length every time his head was lifted, adding a resistance, a friction, to the movement. He’d do anything to keep getting those lovely sounds out of the Captain, those moans, those grunts, those breathless little pants that ran tremors through Qrow’s legs and –

Clover clamped both hands over the back of Qrow’s head to hold him in place as cum filled his mouth. Qrow nearly gagged at the sudden spill, but he couldn’t stop himself from focusing on Clover’s taste. It was a far cry from sweet, but Qrow moaned nonetheless as he swallowed down bitter cream until a dribble of white escaped the corner of his mouth.

He let Clover’s softening cock sit on his tongue as he listened to Clover try and get a hold of his breathing, his own body growing desperate for the same attention.

Clover pushed his chair back to glare down at Qrow, his lips parted in such a way that it excited Qrow. Qrow smirked. “Oh come on, he didn’t have a clue – ”

Clover dragged Qrow out from under the desk and captured his mouth. It could hardly be called a kiss, more a sloppy claim of authority. Qrow wondered briefly if Clover was trying to punish him, or put him in his place somehow.

It wasn’t working. But Qrow wasn’t going to tell him that.

Qrow bit back into the kiss, pushing the lingering taste of lust onto Clover’s tongue. Clover growled into his mouth, and sparks ran down his spine, warmth pooling between his legs as he sat on his lover’s lap.

Before he knew it, Qrow was being scooped up, plopped on Clover’s desk, pushed down against the chilly marble. He hissed as the merciless cold assaulted his senses.

“You audacious bastard.” Clover narrowed his eyes at Qrow.

“That’s one way to say thanks.” Qrow winked.

Clover rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. “What if Ironwood saw you? What if he knew?”

“I’d have told him to enjoy the show.” Qrow chuckled nonchalantly; he considered himself lucky he’d managed to get the quip out in time, because his voice was stolen away for the most part when Clover squeezed his thighs and pulled them far apart.

“That got you _very_ excited, huh?” Clover smirked, ghosting his fingers over Qrow’s length. He arched his back at the touch, clearly asking for more, but Clover wouldn’t give. He pinned Qrow to the desk with one hand on his chest and kept fiddling half-heartedly with his other. “Was that all I was to you? Your starter?”

“I was – _ah_ – was just trying to thank you for last night.” He tried buttering Clover up, but he wasn’t taking the bait. Instead he cocked a triangular eyebrow at Qrow, and shook his head. Then in the blink of an eye, he darted forward and clamped his jaw around Qrow’s chest, leaving a red ring of teeth indents around his nipple. “ _F-fuck_! You feral prick!”

Clover let out a muffled snicker, rolling his tongue persistently around the pink pebbling nipple. The burn of the bite coupled with the teasing flicks of pleasure left Qrow’s heart hammering, but what frightened him more was how _good_ the pain felt. Was it just his Heat, or was he a lot kinkier than he remembered?

Clover bit down at the dip where Qrow’s pecs met the muscle over his ribs, marking him again and again with no mercy, until he reached Qrow’s other nipple. A line of irritated love bites decorated his chest now, each sting and throb of pain going straight to his cock until he was dizzy with the teasing hints of bliss. He tilted his head back in defeat and let Clover do his worst, his hips grinding wantonly into the Captain as little dashes of Aura danced across his skin.

Fingers rubbed circles into Qrow’s entrance then, and his Heat blew through him in full force until a high whine escaped his lips.

“Oh you sound _good_ , baby bird,” Clover purred, nibbling his earlobe, “I’ve missed your sweet little sounds. Sing for me.”

Qrow scoffed breathlessly. In response, or perhaps as punishment, Clover squeezed his lover’s balls and elicited the dirtiest whine Qrow ever remembered making. Gods, he sounded like he did this for a living.

“Hm, there we are. You sound so beautiful.”

“Sh-shut up.” Qrow panted, covering his face with his hands to hide the hues of shame flourishing in his cheeks.

“Oh come on, I’m right.” He tried not to listen to Clover’s words and instead focus on the sound of a lubricant bottle popping open – where did he get lube? – but it all sounded so unashamed, so honest, when Clover said these things. Clover could have said anything in that tone and Qrow would have been tempted to believe him. “You’re always so beautiful, birdie. Even when you get all embarrassed.”

Qrow simply shook his head. But he was thrown off guard as two wet fingers slid into him without warning. The noise he made managed to pierce through the barrier of his hands, and he finally revealed his face to scowl at Clover. “You could have warned me.”

“That would have ruined the surprise, Qrow.” Clover smirked, fingering him to get a better feel (and clearly to watch Qrow’s reaction to the sudden intrusion). “God, are you still loose from last night? Or were you playing with yourself in the shower?”

“I w-wasn’t _playing_ with myself – _hah, fuck_ – I was cleaning out the mess _you_ made.” Qrow tried to meet his oceanic gaze, but he couldn’t hold out for long, instead giving into the urge to dart his gaze away. Clover was the only person who could make him shy away like this, it seemed.

“It sounded like you enjoyed being filled up, so don’t complain about it now.” Clover chuckled, adding a third finger – just for fun. “Don’t worry, I’ll wear a condom from now on. I’m sorry I didn’t bring any last night.”

Qrow panted, his ass squeezing Clover's fingers until the Captain released a silent gasp. With his free hand he grabbed Qrow's leg and hooked it over his shoulder, licking his lips as he took a better look at his lover.

"Gods above, you're so wet and loose already."

"Then why're you still fingering me?" Qrow grumbled breathlessly.

"I like feeling you." Clover shrugged. “You’re warm and so, so gorgeous.”

He tried not to feel incredibly flattered, in a weird way; each time he flexed his fingers, curled them deep inside Qrow's body, stretched and slicked him up, he enjoyed it too. He seemed devoted to it, even, watching Qrow’s every move as he explored the feeling of those wet walls that squeezed his digits with every flex. Those fingers reached further until he was knuckle-deep, just barely missing that sweet spot by a hair. Qrow panted, pressing the heel of his foot into Clover's back to pull him close.

Clover slipped his fingers out and rolled a condom over his length with an ease that comes only with experience.

Adrenaline buzzed through Qrow's nerves, Heat and lust and excitement rocking the foundations of his form. Clover stroked up his long leg and rubbed his length against his lover's entrance, and Qrow shivered, laying back into the desk.

"You're not so impatient today." Clover commented, sounding cool as a cucumber even as sweat stuck locks of hair to his face.

"You're not much of a tease today." Qrow pouted.

"That can change..." Clover smirked, before leaning over Qrow and easing in the first inch of himself. Qrow bit down on his bottom lip, all his energy focused on that one spot. But it was hard to focus on much else when Clover was suddenly so close, breathing his air, trapping his leg between their chests.

"But the one thing I love more than teasing you... Is making you fall apart."

Qrow sighed, shivering as Clover ran his tongue up his lover's neck, making the bruises that still remained tingle. Qrow arched his back and groaned as he felt Clover stretching him wide, impaling him on his cock. He tried to stifle his sounds by biting down on his knuckle but Clover grabbed his hand and held it to the desk in a vicelike grip.

"Gods above, it's so easy to fuck you when you're like this. I love how you feel."

“I – I’m still not used to it yet.” Qrow gasped, the now-familiar fog of satisfying lust rolling through his mind. “Your size.”

“Good, I hope you never get to it. I hope I never stop hearing those surprised little moans you make, those sweet gasps and whines.”

“I don’t _whine_...”

“Oh, you do,” Clover pinned Qrow’s other hand above his head for the hell of it. Qrow believed he could get out of the grip, but when he strained and Clover gave no give, an excitement trembled through him like nothing else, and it wasn’t just from the Heat. Clover continued, “you whine and whimper and it’s so pretty.”

Most people would respond to compliments with a ‘thank you’. But Qrow still wasn’t good at receiving such things, so instead he growled – or tried to. He ended up proving Clover’s point when a breathless whine drifted out from between pale lips. “You better shut your mouth.”

“Oh? Or what? Are you going to shut it for me?” Clover grinned, baring more weight down on Qrow’s wrists, and finally he began grinding his hips just right into his lover’s body. Finally the pleasure they both craved broke out in ripples that remained unrelenting so long as Clover didn’t stop moving. “ _Mm_... your hips are so narrow, birdie, you might be loose but it still feels so snug inside...”

“You – _hah, gods_ you’re such a _brat_.” Qrow let his head lull to the side in defeat, the cold marble shocking against his cheek. His Heat swelled in pulses of fire each time Clover dragged his cock in and out, in and out.

Soon he was driving his thick length into Qrow, releasing his wrists in favour of gripping his bony hips to steady his lover for each thrust. Every time Qrow was filled so roughly, his nerves lit up like carousel lights, warmed like burners on a stove. Clover panted, and Qrow knew his gaze was zoned in on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet those seafoam eyes. He feared he might melt under such an intense expression... or at the very least cum too soon.

Clover’s lips were on his neck then, a hand stroking the leg he’d hooked over his broad shoulder, and a tongue trailing over the shell of Qrow’s ear. His breath whispered over the wetness, erupting goosebumps across the back of Qrow’s neck, and there was no way for Qrow to hold back the sounds that Clover so clearly loved to hear. He wrapped his arms around Clover’s neck to hold him close, his skin on fire but he no longer had the brain capacity to give a damn, and let his lover, his Captain, fuck him into the desk as he moaned and panted and cried out freely. There was so much force behind Clover’s hips that the front legs of the desk were being lifted off the floor in time, and when Qrow realized, a spark of fear fluttered through his heart. It would be just his luck for the table (or him) to break right about now. He only hoped Clover’s own Semblance would counter it. And yet, that pinprick of danger only added to the high, made his heart pound with a fervent beat. Gods, his Heat was turning him into a disaster.

But all that stopped mattering soon. All ability to think melted away. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that was real, was Clover, and the Heat, and Clover’s lips on his neck, and the way his cock simply wrecked his body, and the way his leg was positioned so Clover’s shoulder so he was more spread open, so he could reach –

Clover’s cock struck against Qrow’s sweet spot.

A flash of white swooped through Qrow’s vision as an otherworldly bliss ricocheted through every inch of his core, breaking his resolve and drowning his thoughts in nothing more than lust and want and _please please please don’t stop_. From then on, the lust burned through his veins with each assault on his body, each thrust that felt deep enough to plunge into the very depths of his being.

Qrow loved Clover. He loved him so much. He never wanted this to end.

He heard Clover laugh breathlessly against his ear. “ _Hah_... Love you too, birdie... _gods_ , I love you so much...!”

Had he spoken out loud?

It didn’t matter.

Qrow just couldn’t bare the thought of this ending. Not yet. _Please_ not yet.

Clover captured his mouth in a mess of tongues and teeth and saliva, and Qrow’s will finally snapped. The throws of his orgasm flooded the last of his senses, and the moans that passed from his lips and pushed against Clover’s were so debauched he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of making such noises. The matter wasn’t helped by his lover’s hand wrapping around his aching cock and stroking him through it. His leather gloves. The feeling of leather gloves against his sensitive cock made him _sob_. Rough and hard and _so fucking good_. “C- _Clover_! Oh god! _Fuck_ \- ! _Please,_ _yes_ \- !”

Tragically, the intoxicating lust ended, but in its place came waves of satisfaction. Contentment. Gods, if Clover would keep it up, Qrow wasn’t going to let him leave this place all week.

He could feel Clover forcing himself to slow down, but his hips shook with the effort. Qrow caught his breath, smiled a wobbly smile as Clover pressed tender kisses against his skin.

“You... you alright?” Qrow whispered shortly after.

“Y-yeah...” Clover’s voice shook as he replied. Qrow frowned softly, before the fog cleared just enough for him to realize the weight inside him was still rock hard.

“You didn’t cum.” He pouted quietly, stroking the back of Clover’s head, kissing his cheekbone. “You can finish.”

“I... I...” Clover gripped Qrow desperately, clearly so eager to go, yet he still held back. “You’re too sensitive now... won’t it hurt?”

Qrow had to chuckle breathlessly, threading his fingers through locks of hair that was too short yet to pull. Clover was sweet, too sweet for his own good. But he was right. Qrow had a bit of a _thing_ about carrying on so soon after an orgasm, his body grew oversensitive, and the overwhelming stimulation would ruin the pleasure – if he let Clover do it now, during Heat, it’d kill for ages after. “You can always have my mouth, lucky charm. Hm?”

Clover smiled weakly, kissing Qrow tenderly. “Twice in one day?”

“More, if you play your cards right.” Qrow winked, and it wasn’t long before he was on his knees in front of Clover once again, the condom laying abandoned on the desk.

Qrow licked a stripe over the wet slit of Clover’s cock, revelling in the shiver that ran up his lover. He nuzzled between those strong thighs, and gazed up at the Captain as he engulfed his length, the taste of lubricant adding to the salt and sweat. He fell in love with the way that lust glazed over Clover’s eyes, soothed them right before they rolled into the back of his head in sweet relief. Qrow made a show of moaning for his lover as he sucked. Maybe if the afterglow of his own euphoria wasn’t keeping him dopey and dreamy, he might not have been so eager to put on such a performance. But such was the case and Qrow was more than happy to give, and give, and give, until he felt those thighs tense.

However, because his mind was still so dulled by the haze of Heat-induced satisfaction, he didn’t think of the consequences of taking his mouth off Clover when he reached his own peak – cum spurted over his lips, cheek, dribbled down his chest in drips of hot white.

“Ah – ah, Qrow, shit...” Clover panted, trying to keep his head amidst the pleasure. He reached out and wiped at a droplet on Qrow’s chin, but Qrow held his hand steady.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He reassured his lover, rolling the bud of his tongue over the white smear on Clover’s thumb. He adored the shock that went through his eyes, but most of all the way that shock made way for amusement. Clover smirked, dragging his fingers through more streaks of cum and feeding Qrow. Qrow lapped at his fingers, licked and sucked happily. Of course, it wasn’t _tasty_ , but it tasted of Clover, and that was enough to satisfy him.

“I can’t believe I have you all to myself.” Clover exhaled, cupping his wet hand over Qrow’s cheek.

He smiled, nuzzling against the leather of his gloved palm. “Believe it. I don’t want anyone else.”

Clover hooked a finger under Qrow’s chin, tilting his head up, and kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

They were on their third day, and Clover had already been forced to order a new box of condoms from the pharmacy. His muscles ached, sweat ran down his freckled skin, but he was nowhere near close to stopping.

Qrow’s creamy legs trembled in his grip as he tried to keep himself upright. The most exquisite shades of pink blushed his body, bloomed most around his cheeks and down his neck. It framed his rosy red eyes so perfectly, though by now those eyes were rolled into the back of his skull, leaving Clover to stare into little more than the milky white sclerae, a sharp contrasting illumination on those fucked-out features.

Gods he was so beautiful. How could someone with so much beauty be so oblivious to it?

Clover had to show him. Had to make Qrow see what he saw. And in those moments when the call of lust rose louder than all else, it became the clearest language Clover had at his disposal.

So he shifted closer, moving Qrow’s legs until they were a vice around his hips, and bit down the curve of Qrow’s chest. Collarbone, sternum, the dip at the underbreast that elicited the sweetest sounds from his lover. Clover made sure to target those points, memorize any spot that wound Qrow up, made him moan.

The evening light flooded in from the window, the last desperate rays of sun all that illuminated the room, illuminated them. This must have been the 3rd time already that day that he’d had Qrow like this, laid out exclusively for him, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough.

Qrow’s mouth hung open, a stubbled jaw that had long forgotten how to close, as his head became buried in the pillows beneath him. He might complain that Clover teased him, but it was the best way to get him like this when Clover finally decided to give him what he clearly craved. Was it particularly cruel to tease Qrow during a Heat, when his body was clearly so sensitive? Hm, perhaps. But it was so worth it when he knew it would make the high so much better.

Clover captured a sweet pink nipple between his lips, his tongue rolling over the indents his teeth had left only just last night. Pale hands found purchase on Clover’s back and scraped long red lines up the skin. Clover shuddered, skin convulsing under the harsh cuts, but he remained urged on by the sting.

“R-right there, right _there_ , _hah_ , gods Cloves, _ohholyfuck_ – ” Qrow’s gravelly moans were like music to Clover’s ears, a symphony of pleasure. He grinned breathlessly; Qrow looked _good_ like this, legs spread wide, abs twitching, vanilla skin shining with sweat, his whole body just begging for a good hard fuck. His ass gripped Clover’s cock, took him so well. He was slick and wet and hot as Hell itself; no wonder sins of the flesh were so frowned upon by older generations. But how could anyone call _this_ a sin when Clover felt like he was ascending to Heaven?

He shook his head to himself, brushed back the salt-and-pepper hair that clung to that beautiful pale face and forced more energy into his hips, fucking his birdie into the headboard flush against the bed, his legs gripped tight, trapped, nowhere to go or to escape to. And Qrow simply let himself slide down the headboard as he was fucked into, until he was buried in the mess of plush pillows and blankets. “Brothers, I can’t believe how good you feel...!” Clover panted, hoisting a long leg up over his shoulder to get the perfect angle to absolutely ruin his corvid lover.

And ruined he was, any illusion of arrogance or flippancy reduced down to wanton sobs and moans, a hot lust glazing over his eyes as he let himself give into the way his body ached so perfectly. And Qrow was the one telling Clover to try and keep up.

Clover wanted to drown in this feeling, let every last nerve in his whole form become consumed by it. If this was fire, he’d happily burn alive.

Qrow ran his fingernails over Clover’s broad shoulders, digging down his chest until flashes of teal green Aura skittered over the cuts like matches sparking across Clover’s skin. Half-formed words dribbled out of his lover’s mouth, pleas of “yes, _yes_ – please gods _yes_ \- ! Clover – _fuck_ – I can’t – _I can’t, Clover_ \- !” and that was how Clover knew it was time. He grabbed between Qrow’s legs, clumsy at first, getting a feel for his lover’s hard cock. He was _swollen_ , so stiff and just waiting to burst. Clover wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer anyway; he squeezed Qrow’s cock and dragged his fist up and down its slicked length until Qrow was letting out those tell-tale little whines that signalled the end, and he came in Clover’s hand.

It was a glorious thing to watch, to see his baby bird arch his back off the bed as creamy white shot from him, splashed over his stomach and chest. Clover groaned as long muscular legs squeezed around his body, threatening to crush him, but that wasn’t all. Qrow’s body clenched around his cock like he was trying to suffocate the organ, and that was all that he needed to come undone. Clover hunched over Qrow as a heat of his own broke through him, filling up his nerves with energy as he came into his condom. It was always better when he reached his own climax with Qrow, but it was proving to be a difficult thing to predict.

Nonetheless, he gripped Qrow tightly, possessive, secure in the knowledge that Qrow was _his_ and only his. And Qrow’s shaking hands running through his hair reminded him that he was Qrow’s, undoubtedly, uncontestably so.

Whether it was something he was just into or something that his Heat demanded, Clover didn’t know, but Qrow seemed to enjoy it more when Clover kept himself sheathed inside even after they were finished. He couldn’t complain; the afterglow of warmth and quiet joy that encapsulated them in these moments was something he wouldn’t trade for the world. He smiled as he felt little kisses on the top of his head, but stilled as he heard the first notes of a song.

Qrow was humming, a soothing melody recited breathlessly to Clover as his hair was smoothed out. Clover laid his head on Qrow’s chest, that still-rampant heart adding a backing beat to the tune, his own heart quietened by the affection in that simple melody. He couldn’t say he recognized it, but it felt like it fit perfectly in his memory, in his heart, a piece that clicked into a space in his own being like it had been there all along.

“That’s a lovely tune,” he spoke softly once Qrow had trailed off, and tilted his head to gaze up lazily, “what is it?”

Qrow smiled, cupping Clover’s cheek so tenderly that Clover couldn’t help but nuzzle into his birdie’s palm. “Just something the women from the tribe used to sing to me when I was little – well, they sang it to all the kids. I don’t remember the words anymore, but...” He looked away and his smile widened, “I used to sing it to the girls when they were really little. They’d make up their own lyrics to it.”

Clover shifted, finally pulling out gently and moving up to kiss Qrow properly. “You’re so lovely.”

Those simple words seemed like they were almost enough to break Qrow, and he looked up at Clover as if he was the first person to say such a thing to him.

“You’re running me ragged, though,” Clover added, earning him a sweet raspy chuckle, “think we’ll be able to get a bite to eat before the next wave hits?”

Qrow laughed bashfully, looking down, “if we’re quick.” Then, cheekily, he glanced up at Clover, “Why? Worried you can’t keep up?”

“Me? You should have seen yourself just now.” He flicked Qrow’s nose, who laughed and buried his face into the crook of his lover’s neck.

“...Thank you, Cloves. For staying with me.”

Clover smiled and cradled him, welcomed him in. “Of course I’ll stay with you, Qrow.”

He always would.


	6. Chapter 6

The sweetest fluttering of feathers brushed against Clover’s cheek, thin like blades and soft like clouds. Clover opened his eyes to find a big black bird nuzzling into the side of his head, nesting down into the pillow. He smiled, gently raising his hand to stroke his fingertips lovingly over his pretty bird. He’d only seen Qrow in this form a handful of times – not nearly as often as he’d like. Qrow let out a soft groaning coo, rubbing his beak against the Captain’s nose. His beak was the same feeling of polished bone, or smooth fingernails. Organic, yet detached from the natural softness of most living things. He liked the feeling.

“Hey, birdie.” He whispered softly.

Qrow let out a loving little croak, nuzzling against Clover’s face. It was the most wonderful of feelings, to have such a creature be so affectionate, so devoted.

“I wasn’t too rough last round, was I?” He yawned, scratching Qrow’s chest with his index finger, “I ran out of condoms. Did you mind?”

The bird let out a happy little trill, musical and forgiving, before lifting himself up off the pillow.

Below the bird were three little blue eggs, speckled with splodges of dark murky green and nestled securely on the cotton pillow. Qrow cawed affectionately as he showed off the eggs, the babies-to-be. Clover stared at them, his heart stopping. One rattled.

Clover’s eyes snapped open as he awoke.

That wasn’t what he could honestly classify as a nightmare. It was... more an unnerving dream. His heart wasn’t hammering like some infernal steam train as it often would after particularly bad dreams (of which he thankfully had few), he just felt... confused, and deeply unsettled. His stomach felt like earth that had been freshly dug up and poured back into an empty grave, but then he moved his head, and his cheek brushed against sweet soft hair, and his heart threatened to settle before the feeling of déjà vu crept into his awakening mind.

The feeling made him sit up straight, but to his blessings the sleeping creature beside him was a man, with no eggs or children to be seen. Qrow’s face was a soft pink bloom, his eyebrows furrowed just a pinch as he dreamed his own dreams (given their current activities through the week, and the hard spot pressing into his leg, Clover could easily imagine what Qrow was dreaming of). His hair was wild, sticking up and out in all odd directions. The Captain let himself smile a little as he was greeted with rosy eyes gazing up at him.

“Hey... birdie.” He found himself saying. The vision of eggs seemed stuck between his lashes along with the sleep sand.

Qrow groaned softly. “You woke me up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. What were you dreaming about?” He laid back down and held his arm open for Qrow to nuzzle into. A pale arm crossed over his neck, worn muscles warm against his skin.

“You.” He responded, his gravelly words were muffled as his fingers found their way into Clover’s hair – as they often did.

“Really? I was dreaming about me too. You were there as well.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

Clover laughed softly, but the little, green-speckled eggs didn’t leave his mind.

He’d never really thought about children. He moved to Atlas for the job, everything about his life was dedicated to that. Atlas was his priority, the General’s word was his priority.

Then he met Qrow.

And gods, that made everything different.

Could a Heat... could that open up new possibilities in his life? Qrow himself didn’t seem the type to want kids, despite his clear affection to the spunky young upstarts he’d travelled across Remnant with thus far. Would he and Qrow make for good parents? How would that even work biologically? How would that work with everything going on?

He liked kids well enough, but his own...?

It was a bizarre idea, that he and Qrow could procreate. Heat or not, they didn’t have the... parts for that. It would be foolish if Clover let the idea linger in his head.

Then again, it was bizarre that a man could turn into a bird. It was bizarre that birdlike behaviours could transfer between forms. He’d noticed the other characteristics in his birdie; the subtle way Qrow would tilt his head when he heard a noise, or – far more obviously – the preening. Clover wasn’t too fond of the word – sounded a bit too, well, animalistic – but he liked the action. Qrow’s fingers rubbed into his scalp, through the longer locks at the front of his hairline, disturbing the uniform perk until it was messy and falling over his forehead. But Clover enjoyed the affection too much to put up a fuss. How could he, when it so clearly made Qrow just as happy as it made him?

Would Qrow be happy with a kid? A baby? Would Clover even know what to _do_ with a baby?

He tried to banish the dream to the back of his grey matter, where it may soon be forgotten, and yet... he was curious.

“Qrow, love,” he prompted quietly, trying to keep his voice subdued so as to not startle his birdie.

“Hm?” Qrow gazed up at Clover, eyes glossy from torpidity... and from lust. Though Clover was used to that by now.

He stroked Qrow’s back lovingly as he tried to think of a way to phrase the question that didn’t make him look like an idiot or some sort of pervert. “So... Heat is, uh, it’s a way to encourage animals to have babies, is that correct?”

Qrow stared at Clover languidly, and shrugged. “I guess, yeah.”

“So... hm, if you were with a woman right now, obviously there’s a chance you could end up getting _her_ pregnant.”

“Knowing my luck, absolutely. But I’ve never had anyone else during Heat. Remember?”

“I remember, I...” Clover swallowed, and waited until Qrow lowered his head back onto his shoulder. It already sounded stupid in his head, much more so coming out of his mouth. But he had to ask nonetheless, “there’s no chance of you getting pregnant though, right?”

Qrow cackled tiredly and shook his head. “You’re fucking weird, lucky charm. At least you’re handsome.” He shifted to roll over until he was half-covering Clover, hooking his leg high onto his lover's waist. He really was half-hard, evident by his dick pressed into Clover’s hip bone.

The Captain smiled; it _was_ a stupid question, he thought, and dismissed it. Instead he took to nuzzling his nose into the side of Qrow's soft hair. He could feel the Heat radiating off him, smell it almost. It wasn't a tangible scent - at least, it wasn't recognisable. It smelled deep, old, and carried with it the quiet adrenaline and excitement of nightly wind and the dazzle of stars.

Qrow groaned softly, clearly enjoying the affections. “Gods, I _felt_ pregnant last round after how rough you were.”

“You said that’s how you wanted it.” Clover tried to be defensive, but it mostly came out as apologetic.

Qrow smiled. “Hm, I’m not complaining.” Then, he sat up onto Clover’s lap, the blanket gathering around his hips, framing him. He looked godly; pale skin shiny like marble, his body lean but so impressively muscular, to the point where, in this position, a lesser being would feel intimidated. Excited. His hair, usually swept but, was now a wild halo of black around a handsome rugged face. "Wanna try?" He smirked.

Clover’s brain blue-screened for a few seconds. “Huh?”

“You’re so into the idea of knocking me up all of a sudden. I wanna see you try. Give me your best effort.”

“Th-that’s not...” Clover sighed, smiling up at Qrow, “and you said I’m weird. Just ask for another round next time.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, “let’s just see if you can keep up at all.”


	7. Chapter 7

"You know, I want to explore more of this Heat." Clover said casually, gesturing from behind Qrow to the coffee table and the assortment he’d laid out.

Dildos of varying sizes. Plugs. Sleeves. Cock rings. Anal beads. A rather attractive pair of vibrating nipple tassels. Clover hadn’t laid out his entire collection, just the things he thought Qrow might like to try at first, and all his lover could do was stare like a child in a candy store.

He’d only gone for a quick shower, so Clover hadn’t had enough time to line them up exactly how he wanted – hadn’t even had time to get all the lube he owned – but it had still been both wonderful and hilarious to see him so shocked as he came out, still shrugging on the bathrobe. He probably hadn’t noticed, but his face was beetroot red by now, eyes scanning over each toy but, as Clover smugly noticed, those eyes kept lingering on the nipple tassels. They were a deep wine red, glossy, as was the remote, and Clover had to admit they’d look beautiful on his birdie.

“I could always get you the panties that match, if you wanted.” Clover wrapped his arms around Qrow from behind, the scent of apples still lingering on his skin from the shower gel. Clover took in a long breath, kissing up Qrow’s neck. He hadn’t had much time to learn all the different warning signs and clues that pointed to when a new wave of Heat was due to arise in Qrow, but Clover was a fast learner. He picked up on the way his back arched a tad as his neck was kissed, he noticed the way his lover bit his bottom lip to quieten the way his voice began to grow breathless, the way his whole body came fidgety. Minute details like that were saved to memory for eternity.

“You...” Qrow swallowed, “are you planning on using these on me?”

“Only the ones you want to use. I was thinking about what you said earlier, if I can’t keep up...”

“I was – I was only joking.” he chuckled nervously, apologetically, as he turned to Clover. He straightened up immediately, though, and tried to brush it all off as a joke. “So what am I to you? Breeding livestock?”

“Hm... I quite like that word. Breeding.” He breathed against Qrow’s ear, and could almost feel the temperature rising up in his lover’s body, a heat generator all to himself. “Besides... I’d hate for that to become a real possibility. So...” He gestured to the coffee table, “I want you use these to your heart’s content if I ever need a break.”

Qrow swallowed, and nodded. “Can we try some out? Now?”

“You’re so demanding. Of course we can.” Clover kissed Qrow’s shoulder as he undid the bathrobe around him, chucking it to the side. Clover himself was only donned in sweats and a vest, for fear of getting any unpleasant stains on his uniform that he’d have to explain. Besides, joggers were so much easier to tug off than a pair of military-issue pants – he once wondered if they were designed exclusively for cockblocking, figurative and literal. “I noticed you were eyeing up the tassels. You birds and your shinies, hm?”

Qrow scoffed, but really couldn’t argue as Clover sat on the sofa, pulling Qrow onto his lap. He scooped the red tassels up off the table and showed them to Qrow.

“They vibrate, you know,” Clover offered, loving how he could _see_ the shiver running over Qrow’s spine, “get the remote and see.”

“I didn’t know you could even _get_ vibrating ones...” Qrow leaned forward and grabbed the little remote, no bigger than a ballpoint pen. It was shaped closely to one as well, with little plastic buttons running up the length to indicate different settings. Clover bit back a groan as his lover’s movements made him rub up against his crotch, sending lovey little shots of heat through his abdomen.

“Heh, well Atlas _does_ have a reputation for its advanced tech. Apparently these should be on the official market in a few months.” Clover put a hand on Qrow’s warm thigh, felt it tremble just a touch under his hand, and felt himself shake a little with excitement. He knew the next wave was close. How many had Qrow had today already? 2? 3? It was only just lunch time; if he carried on like this, he was going to break yesterday’s record with no effort.

“Don’t tell me you use your official ranking as an excuse to get access to new toys.” Qrow cocked an eyebrow at Clover, but it was crystal clear how excited he was, how curious he was. “Are you really that impatient?”

“Trust me, when you try these, you’ll be thanking me.” Clover replied, confident as ever.

“ _Oh_? So you’ve tried them yourself?” Qrow turned in his lap to face him, pressing his hands into his chest to grope his pecs. “Do you have a thing for nipples?”

“I just like to be open-minded.” Clover pressed his hand into the small of Qrow’s back, holding him close, before flicking his tongue over Qrow’s nipple. There were still faint marks from his teeth; gods, he hoped they never faded.

Qrow gasped softly, settling a hand on the back of Clover’s head. The plan was to stick the tassel straight on, but Clover couldn’t help but have some fun and tug lightly on the pebbled pink skin, flattening his tongue into it and listening to his lover letting out a shaky breath in response. It was too much fun playing with him like this, getting Qrow so horny, making him ride the wave of Heat. He wasn’t cruel, at least he didn’t think so; he just loved it when Qrow begged. This proud, skilful, snarky man reduced to panting and pleading with his legs wide open in luring anticipation... it was the stuff of dreams. To Clover, at least. Then again, he couldn’t think of a single person alive who could refuse such a temptation.

Eventually, though, when Qrow was hard and dripping, he pressed the tassels onto both those wet pink buds. Qrow hissed softly, “they’re _cold_ , Clover.”

“Just put up with it a little longer, okay?” Clover smiled softly, “it’s going to be worth it. Trust me.”

Qrow grumbled, but nodded.

Clover leaned back into the sofa and smiled to himself. Qrow really did look good with the tassels. Little wine-red disks with long strips of silk ribbon dangling from them, so long they dangled around Qrow’s sweat-coated abs. Clover reached out and took the ribbons of one, and yanked, pretending he was only doing it to make sure they were properly stuck on.

Qrow yelped, blood rushing to his face (among other places) before he melted against the tug, biting down on his bottom lip. “Fuck’s sake, Cloves...!”

Clover chuckled. “Yep. I made up my mind. I’m definitely buying you the matching panties.”

“Oh I’m _so_ flattered.” Qrow glared daggers at him, putting his hands on the Captain’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Come on. You’d look incredible. Lovely red lace that matches your eyes, hm? I’ll find one with a really soft silk for the thong strap so it doesn’t scratch.”

“Are we actually discussing this or are you just thinking out loud?”

“Ooh, and a pair of stockings for your beautiful long legs.”

“Okay you’re just thinking out loud. Ignore me, that’s fine.” Qrow crossed his arms.

“Qrow, baby bird, you know I’m not ignoring you.” Clover linked his arms around his lover’s back. “I’d never ignore you.”

“You sure? It definitely feels like – ” Qrow began, but Clover smirked and turned a random setting on the vibrators behind his back. Qrow straightened his back and gripped Clover’s shoulders, his eyes widening. The ribbons shook and trembled in time with the vibrations, a clear indication to Clover of what setting he’d flicked the tassels onto; one of the higher ones, apparently. He _would_ have felt guilty, had Qrow’s face not been so laughably erotic as the electric pulses melted away his shock into pleasure. His eyes rolled back and he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to quell the desperate urge to moan. He was unsuccessful.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” Qrow hung his head his hips started to roll and grind on Clover’s lap of their own accord.

Clover let himself indulge in the feeling of his birdie’s weight rubbing up onto his confined cock, and decided it was still absolutely worth it.

“You need to stop being such a brat with me.” Qrow growled, trying so hard to remain steadfast and intimidating. Clover had to at least applaud his will. “I’m not some random twink you brought home from the bar. I bite and scratch.”

“You’ll beg and crawl too.” Clover narrowed his eyes at Qrow, his smirk only growing. He was pushing his luck and he knew it. But he couldn’t back down now. “But then again, you already have been these last few days – ”

Qrow darted forward and bit down on Clover’s neck, just under his jawline where no uniform could ever hope to hide. Clover snarled, trying to pull Qrow back but his jaw had too tight a grip. This wasn’t just any love bite, this was a firm clamp. It _hurt_ , but Clover found he liked it.

The mark Qrow left behind was like none of the bruises on his own form. This one was painfully dark on Clover’s skin, undoubtedly destined to ache for days regardless of the strength of his Aura. “Fucking _christ_ , Qrow...”

“Y-you deserved that.” Qrow scoffed, red from embarrassment – as if _he_ had anything to be embarrassed about. This mark was going to stay firm long after the week was up – people were going to ask, Ironwood, Elm, the kids. And he couldn’t even hope to lie about it; if the teeth indents were anything to go by, this was going to remain in the signature shape of a mouth, a _bite_.

Clover glared at Qrow, and in seconds had him pinned against the sofa, his wrists fastened high above his head. “And you called ME a brat? Oh, birdie, I was being nice before.”

“Get off me.” Qrow growled, so clearly trying to stop the corners of his lips from perking up into a smirk. He tried to put force behind his command, pretend he was serious and that he wasn’t majorly turned on by the authority in Clover’s tone, by the power held over him.

“Not until you’ve learned to be good. Not until I’ve taught you. Not until you _beg_.”

Qrow glared up at the Captain, apprehension only just rising on the horizon in his expression. Then, he chuckled and tried to wriggle out of his iron grip. “Alright, alright, would you knock it off?”

Clover scoffed. “You think I’m going to let you get away with that attitude? Not a chance.” He sat up, bringing Qrow’s wrists down to his chest, only for his lover to narrow his eyes at him.

“You started it.”

“And I intend to finish it.” Clover replied casually, trailing one hand down to Qrow’s chest. The tassels had stopped; perhaps he’d switched it off by mistake. He scowled to himself and reached for the remote when, before he could react, Qrow yanked a hand loose and grabbed between the Captain’s legs.

Incalescence shot through his legs immediately, bubbling up through his abdomen, his stomach, and his surprised gasp far too easily shifted into a groan. Qrow pulled him down by the strap of his vest, and licked a playful stripe up the shell of his ear. “Oh come on Captain, can’t we kiss and make up?”

Clover reached to grab Qrow’s hand, but when that very hand squeezed him again, massaged that spot until he was rock hard in his joggers, he found it desperately difficult to get him to stop. Qrow would have suited being a tempter in another life; who could resist that expert touch, that gravelly purr? “I’m supposed to be punishing you.”

“But you don’t have to...” Qrow laid back, liking his lips. Lust glazed his eyes, Heat, “I’m an old man, you can’t be too harsh with me.”

“I thought you liked it rough.” Clover shook his head, but he was grinning. Qrow’s hand slipped into his jogging bottoms, his boxers, and grabbed his confined cock properly. Regardless of how Clover hunched over him in reaction to the grip, or perhaps as a result of it, Qrow smirked and took to stroking that thick length, fingertips squeezing into the hardness. His thumb rubbed pre across the susceptive tip, each move purposeful, titillating, tempting.

“You shouldn’t tease me... not when I’m like this.” Qrow whispered oh so softly.

And just like that, Clover had an idea. He didn’t have to tease Qrow to put him in his place. He could do just the opposite.

“Fine, I won’t tease you, birdie,” Clover smiled his award-winning smile, sitting up and withdrawing Qrow’s hand (as much as it pained him to), “now come here. I want you back on my lap.”

Aw, it was so very cute to see the triumphant smirk on Qrow’s face. It was the look of a man who thought he’d won. He hadn’t.

Clover couldn’t say how long he had Qrow on his lap for, simply kissing him, rolling his tongue over those wickedly sharp canines, running his hands over and over his beautiful alabaster body in long downward strokes. Over his arms, down his chest, abs. Over those lovely thighs he’d already grown so accustomed to being stuck between. He dragged his blunt nails down Qrow’s back, following his spine, and relished in the way his birdie arched into him, pushing Clover’s face into his chest. He watched the warmest pinks breathe down Qrow’s neck from his cheeks until his skin was shiny with sweat and want.

“Cloves...” Qrow frowned, fingers threading through his hair, “you said you weren’t going to...”

“I’m not, baby bird. I just haven’t had a proper chance to explore you yet.” He smiled innocently. Qrow could only smile back, kissing the top of Clover’s head just so, such a sweet gesture that Clover almost reconsidered his punishment.

But Qrow had been a bastard and, in all honesty, he was going to love it as much as hate it.

“Is it better if I focus my attention here...?” Clover let his hand trail down Qrow’s chest, like lingering digits on the board of a piano, and settled on his lover’s cock. “You’re so pretty down here, you know, so sweet and pink and slick...”

“It’s just a dick...” Qrow mumbled.

“It’s not just there, you look so lovely all over. I wouldn’t keep saying it if it wasn’t true.” Clover stroked Qrow as he spoke; any counter or protest his birdie had simply melted in his mouth like bitter chocolate, and he kissed Clover so affectionately it made his militant heart flutter to life. To love.

Soon, his other hand made its way round to Qrow’s rear, and dipped between two warm muscular cheeks. “There we are.” Clover smiled, rubbing his fingers against his lover’s hole, trying to revel and save the memory of how it twitched against his touch, but how Qrow shifted instinctively to press against his digits nonetheless. “I love how wet you are already. I’m still going to lube you up, but you’re nearly dripping down my hand.”

Qrow panted, resting his forehead against Clover’s strong shoulder. “ _Hm_...”

“Hm? You’re not going to say anything?” Clover prompted, grabbing the lube and pouring a blob of the stuff straight onto his lover’s tailbone, holding him still as he jerked in his arms. He waited as the lube dripped lower, until it slowly passed over his hole, cold and wet. “You’re not going to tell me how good it feels?”

Qrow groaned, wrapping his arms around Clover.

Clover rubbed his digits over the lube, over Qrow’s entrance, until he was wetted enough to push his middle finger into his lover. He still found it so fascinating how hot Qrow was on the inside, how beautifully tight and wonderful he was. He wondered if Qrow was like this all the time, even out of Heat. How Clover hadn’t had him already, how he hadn’t been aware his lover had been walking around with such an incredible body, and how he’d done nothing to try and please him yet, should be considered a crime.

But Clover was here now. And he wasn’t going to leave a single inch unchecked, unkissed, unbruised and, above all, unsatisfied.

“You’re not going to tell me how attentive I’ve been? How good I’ve been to you? How I’ve given you everything you want every time you get like this?”

“Wh-what do you want? A medal? An ego boost?” Qrow pouted at him, his eyes suddenly growing wide as Clover pressed three entire fingers into him. His cock visibly twitched, a fresh dribble of precum practically spurting from the tip.

“Remember who you’re talking to.” Clover wrapped his free arm around Qrow’s waist, holding him still as he started pumping his fingers in and out of that heavenly tight space, steady, unrelenting.

Qrow crumbled a little under his grip, his close attention, moaning and groaning and making all those lovely sounds. But Clover could tell he was holding back. After all, he wasn’t undone yet, but that was okay.

He was going to be completely unravelled by the end of this.


	8. Chapter 8

"Maybe it's a good idea, actually." Clover smirked as he pushed the toy deeper into Qrow, the other hand firm on his back to keep him pressed into the bed, legs spread, back arched, cock rubbing into the soft and frustratingly friction-free cotton blankets. The material was already soaked with sweat and drool and cum – Clover had carried him in from the sofa, clearly having decided it was a better place to demolish him, devour him, force him over the edge again and again with different toys.

Qrow glanced back at his lover as the vibrator was turned up, making his thighs quake and his Heat raise his blood to boiling levels. The bitemark on Clover’s jaw was a solid purple bruise by now, and this was his punishment. Clover had decided on making Qrow try out one of every type of toy... sequentially. At the very least, within each wave of Heat. And Clover wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten a climax out of each one. Currently, by the bed, stood 3 toys laying in a little pool of lube and bodily juices. A string of rubbery transparent beads, a textured dildo, and a pretty purple vibrating sleeve. Of course, Qrow had been screwed senseless with the former two, as he desperately loved, but for the sleeve Clover had simply attached it to Qrow and fucked him with his fingers until he’d cried.

He hadn't been fucked like this in so long... He felt like he was being used, leisurely, over and over again. His body little more than Clover's cock warmer at this point. Qrow Branwen, the great Huntsman of his generation, lowered to being a plaything for some pretentious bratty tin soldier – he should be appalled at himself right about now.

Any other time he'd be offended at the notion that he could be dominated so easily, that he could be reduced to this. But his mind was melting out from his ears, his skin was on fire with love bites and tingling nerves, his ass aching after so much use, and he _loved_ it. He would gladly be a slave to this feeling, to this man.

The toy buzzed up against his sweet spot and he purred breathlessly, a worn-out groan erupting from him as his hips rolled into the bed. The nipple tassels continued to buzz in steady increments, slowing down to near-stillness before shocking him with clamping pulses. His wet cock twitched and slid against the sheets, trapped between the mattress and his stomach, begging for more. Always begging for more.

"Ngh.... _Gods_... Wh-what do you mean...?" He panted, trying to resist against Clover's forceful grip and getting nowhere.

"About what you said earlier. Remember?" Clover leaned over Qrow, domineering, and breathed into his ear. His breath was like fire against his skin. "Breeding you, Qrow. You wanted me to try, so I'm going to do my best. I'm going to tie you to this bed and breed you until you're dripping with cum. You want that?"

"Please... Please...!" Qrow pleaded, tilting his ass best as he could, as if in offering. He couldn't think of anything more perfect in that moment. " _Ah_... _Hah_... Fill me up - _f_ - _fuck_ \- fill me up...!"

"Gods, that's exactly what you want, isn't it?" Clover growled, dragging the vibrator slowly out of Qrow's ass. "My horny little bird. That's how I should always treat you when you're in Heat. Tie you up nice and tight with your legs spread wide open, and _breed_ you all day and night. You’re an animal."

Qrow moaned exhaustedly, and bit down on the pillow. If his mind was still his own, he would be at least trying to cover up his wanton moans and desperate whimpers. But right now, he had no dignity. Right now, he didn't give a damn. This feeling was incredible, too incredible to give up for the sake of pride. He wanted Clover to see him like this, so debauched and undone in a way he never had been in his whole weary life.

Clover was worth becoming undone for. Clover was worth being made into a mess for. Qrow wanted Clover to have all of him; not just his body, not even just his damaged patchwork heart. Qrow wanted to hand himself to Clover totally, to give himself up completely, leave nothing untouched or hidden.

Because Clover was worth it. He was worth everything.

And as Qrow was moved up onto his knees, he knew he was safe in Clover's hands, because Clover had proven himself. His hands were firm, but so loving, secure. He seemed to know exactly what Qrow needed.

"Hm... Dirty bird, you have to hold yourself up, or are you expecting me to do all the work?"

"I'm... I'm expecting you to look after me," Qrow smiled coyly, "I'm an old crow."

Clover chuckled, kissing his tailbone before sitting up, confident as can be. "Alright then little bird, just relax and let your Captain take care of you."

The Captain didn’t even allow him a single breath before he was pressed into, filled up in a way no toy could compete with. The perfect feeling spread through his body, breaking down his mind until this was all he wanted. He never thought his Heat would lead him to this, to be fucked into submission over and over, but he could hardly complain. Not when Clover’s cock hit Qrow’s sweet spot like an arcade hammer, lights of pleasure rolling up Qrow’s body until he cried out, until there were tears in his eyes. He could hear himself begging, cursing, moaning as the bed rocked with every one of Clover’s thrusts, and he buried his face into the pillow as he was ruined so brilliantly.

“Don’t hide away from me, birdie...!” Clover grunted, gripping Qrow’s hair and yanking his head up. He shifted back onto his haunches, pulling Qrow half on his lap, still thrusting deep enough and hard enough for the Huntsman to finally rise to the peak of pleasure. A strangled cry escaped him as, for the 4th time that afternoon (and perhaps the 6th pr 7th time that day), cum spurted from him in pulses so blinding they were nearly painful. But his body screamed in bliss at the feeling, his Heat purred in the back of his head like a satiated beast, or a rampaging machine. The Captain grabbed his cock and he just _sobbed_ , nothing left in him to give anymore. At some point Clover reached his own climax, filling up the condom, but Qrow couldn’t focus on that, on anything.

And, at long last, Qrow was laid back down gently in the bed. Clover stroked down his sides, kissing everywhere he could reach with as much love as he could muster while the single brain cell left in Qrow’s skull scrambled for some form of coherence. The nipple tassels were turned off, gently removed and flung to the side with the other toys. And Clover’s arms were around him, warm and ever-welcoming, and Qrow had never been so sated.

“You’re good, you’re so good...” Clover whispered, kissing under Qrow’s ear. "You're my good boy..."

Eventually Qrow was able to respond, shutting his eyes and smiling, “I thought you were punishing me for being a bad little bird. Make up your mind, lucky charm.”

Clover scoffed at his sass. “You’re always my good birdie. You’re not _bad_. But sometimes you do bad things, and it’s my job to teach you a lesson.”

Qrow grinned, opening an eye and stealing a glance at his lover’s face. He reached out and pushed back the oak brown hair out of his face. “Textbook dom, huh? I thought you were more of a service top to be honest.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be. Whatever you need me to be.” Clover nuzzled against Qrow’s hand. “I’ll be anything for you.”

Qrow didn’t have a snarky one-liner to combat that with. The breath in his lungs was stolen away from him by the clarity in those beautiful green eyes, and he pulled Clover’s head down. Not to kiss, just to rest their foreheads together, just to be close.

Despite the hoarse gruffness of his voice, he found himself singing softly. That same melody from before that was stuck in his head. He wasn’t too sure what compelled him to do so, other than some deep-rooted instinct. Something to do with his Heat...? He wasn’t exactly a songbird (pun fully intended), but... at least Clover seemed to enjoy it. He smiled as he snuggled up to Qrow from behind, stroking trails over his pale chest, fingers lingering affectionately on the roughness of sudden scars, as if loving him enough might melt away all the pain Qrow had endured.

It was hopeless. But it was a sweet sentiment.

“I love you,” Clover whispered once Qrow had trailed off, the rest of the wordless lullaby long-forgotten, “but before you drift off... maybe a bath is in order?”

“The water bill is going to be through the roof.” He smirked.

“Good thing it doesn’t come out of my paycheck.” Clover retorted.

“You sure anyone won’t ask questions? I know how stringent you Atlas boys are with your stock count.”

Clover rolled his eyes as he helped lift Qrow up. “They’ll just have to deal with it. Now come on.”

Qrow would have remarked about the state of the bed sheets, how worse the mess will be if they leave it. But quite frankly he couldn’t give a damn, his brain still on autopilot. Besides, he wanted Clover to stay with him, no matter what.

He’ll always want Clover. No matter what.


End file.
